A Thousand Suns: Redemption
by BunBun Fett
Summary: COMPLETE / The aftermath of Order 66 leaves Commander Cody a broken man and he finds forgiveness a hard road to follow. But, in the struggle to redefine himself, he discovers redemption. / PART 1 OF A 2-PART SERIES
1. The Requiem

**Credit:**_ The inspirational credit for this fic goes to **BetaReject** and her amazingly poignant one-shot, **"Not Alone"**. She's graciously given me permission to use the inspiration I found, to create this fic. This first chapter is most particularly dedicated to her, since I borrow her idea of Order 37. The story will evolve on it's own track from this point, but I'll be honest. As an opening, this is strongly influenced by **"Not Alone"** and certain thematic elements are quite similar._

* * *

_"God save us every one / Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns? / For the sins of our hands... / The sins of our tongues... / The sins of our father... / The sins of our young..."_

**Linkin Park  
"The Requiem"**

* * *

He'd drank too much again.

Cody's hand shook as he tried to lift his glass. He swore this was his last one...just as he'd sworn to himself the same, two hours before.

Just as he'd sworn to himself every night for the last six months.

The only thing that came out of his drinking was a sense of dulled acceptance. And, even that was tenuous. The memories and the past stayed blurred only for as long as it took to get the strong Correlian whiskey out of his system.

And, it took a _lot_ of Corellian whiskey. Jango Fett had clearly been a man more than capable of holding his liquor and it was proving an increasing challenge to constantly overcome that genetic disposition. This wasn't the first night Cody cursed his unnatural ancestry; he'd wished more than one morning that it only took a drink or two to achieve the affects he sought night after night. As it was, it took him most of a night of dedicated drinking, before he was comfortably numbed enough to stumble back to his slum-level quarters and pass out. He only ever managed four hours of sleep at most and relied on stims to get him through a day of back-breaking work.

Six months, he'd lived like this. And, he was a mess for it. Unkempt, rarely clean, unshaven - Cody didn't really care. His outward appearance reflected what he felt inside. So what if he'd lost the brisk step and straight back of his glory days? It didn't matter. He'd left his pride back on Bellassa.

And he'd lost his dignity at the bottom of countless bottles, in his endless quest to shut out the screams.

He shuddered. He could still remember the screams. The whiskey burned as he knocked back the glass, but Cody was well past registering it. The glass clinked unsteadily on the bar as he let his hand fall back down.

"Bartender," he slurred.

He pushed his glass toward the bartender's edge and let his head fall into his other hand. Cody closed his eyes; the world was beginning to swim around him and if he didn't stop soon, he'd puke.

But, he still hadn't drunk enough to drown out the screams.

Just one more glass. Maybe then, they'd stop. And he could save what very few credits he had left for tomorrow night.

"You've had enough."

The voice was gentle. Feminine. It wasn't the male bartender's voice, that was for certain. Confused, Cody tried to lift his head. The movement threatened to topple him off of the stool, though, so he only groaned and leaned into his hand again.

"Go 'way," he mumbled.

He had no desire to speak to or interact with a female. It didn't matter to him if she was as beautifully ethereal as one of those obscure aliens Gree had always been on about. Cody wanted nothing to do with any female. _Ever_.

"Saa, don't give him any more," the voice persisted.

Her tone was soft and soothing. Cody was a little surprised he could even make out her words in the crowded, noisy bar, but then again, he'd been trained from birth to notice even the smallest sound. And, whether he wanted to or not, he focused in on her words; the noise of the bar narrowed down to her faceless voice.

"He needs to pay his tab," the bartender's far more familiar voice rasped against Cody's frazzled senses.

He tried to pull himself together, tried to lift his head up out of his hand, tried to reach for his glass. But, his limbs seemed heavy and leaden; he couldn't move and even the slightest muscle movement made him overwhelmingly nauseous.

"I've got it covered, Saa. Don't worry about it."

"Don't know why you bother," Saa spoke after a long pause (during which, Cody tried to move again, with minimal success). "He's just a drunk good-for-nothing."

"No man drinks like this without a reason."

Cody flinched under the unexpected touch of a cool hand against the back of his neck. What was this? Kindness? Pity? He wanted nothing to do with her.

He tried to pull away from her, tried to lash his arm out at her. But he only managed to flap his arm uselessly against air and nearly lost his balance.

"I'll say it again...I don't know why you give such a damn," Saa seemed disapproving; Cody heard the soft slide of his glass as it left the bar top.

"It's in my nature," her hand stayed where it was, steady against the feverish heat of his alcohol-soaked skin.

"Well, get him out of here, 'Tay," Saa's grating voice turned with his body. "He looks like he's gonna' blow."

Cody guessed the bartender was shifting his attention to other customers. Something like a grunt passed his lips, but he couldn't really get any words out. What words did he have to say, anyway? Nothing. Words had alluded him for months. He sometimes wondered if he'd left his ability to speak full sentences back on Bellassa, along with his sense of self.

"C'mon," her hand moved to grip his bicep; her fingers were surprisingly strong for a voice so meek.

"Fiefek," he growled and tried to shrug his arm from his grasp. "Leave me 'lone."

She didn't say anything for a long moment, though her hand stayed firmly on his arm. Cody wasn't even curious about her, or even, really, angry - he just wanted her to let him go and leave him alone. He just wanted to be left to his alcohol and to his past.

Of course, he reasoned, she'd leave him alone quick enough, if she knew what he'd done. If she knew what he'd seen. If she could look inside his mind and sift through his catalogue of horrors.

Horrors and shame that he'd brought about by his own hand.

Soft lips pressed against his ear; Cody groaned. More from desperation, than anything else.

"Go 'way," he muttered a second time, as he tried to move his head away from her lips.

Another hand pressed against his opposite cheek, keeping his ear in gentle contact with her mouth. Her words whispered softly, their meaning nearly missed in Cody's whiskey fog.

"Do as you're told, Trooper."

_Trooper_. It took a second, but the word hit Cody harder than a blaster shot.

His eyes flew open and he reared back his head. The instinctual movement made the room around him whirl and spin upside down; he gagged in response to the weird vertigo dancing in front of his eyes.

He caught a glimpse of her - smooth, pale skin. Short, white hair. A small, gentle face.

Something seemed...off...about her, but Cody was too inebriated to pinpoint what was missing. He was forced, instead, to focus on salvaging what little balance and self-control he had. Saa wouldn't let him come back if he threw up in the bar, again.

Soft,cool hands held him firmly around the waist and the shoulder. She guided him out of the cantina and Cody was helpless in her grasp.

He couldn't even feel shame as he doubled over just past the cantina door and emptied the contents of his stomach out on the dusty street at their feet.

* * *

He might have drunk too _much_, but he definitely hadn't drunk _enough_. Not enough to drown out the dreams.

Cody hadn't been able to sleep in any way that could be considered "sound" in months, but the alcohol at least helped him to sleep without memory. If he dreamed, he never remembered it in the morning. But, this was the first night since he'd deserted to the coal mines of Anobis, that his drinking binge had been cut short before he could inebriate himself into his usual, dreamless whiskey-induced coma.

Now, all the memories came crashing back against his conscious.

He remembered the look of shock on General Kenobi's face, when Cody had fired on him. Worst of all, Cody could once again feel the shame he'd felt at having tried to kill a man who'd been a close friend for almost three years. For a time, the clone commander had been able to put aside those feelings of shame and doubt; after all, he'd only been doing what he was genetically bred to do. He'd only been following orders, like any "good soldier".

But, now, six months later, he was haunted by the memories of all the hundreds of innocents he'd killed in the name of the Republic.

No, not in the name of the Republic. When he'd killed before, for the Republic, it had been with General Kenobi at his side. It had been with Captain Rex and his young Padawan sweetheart. It had been with General Skywalker.

Cody's days with the Republic had been hard. He'd lost countless troops; thousands of brothers. But, they had died with honor and he had lived with a soldier's dignity. Maybe that wasn't much by most standards. But, it'd been enough for him. He'd been defending democracy and freedom. He'd been protecting the innocent as best as he could; he hadn't been slaughtering them for no other reason than pointless _orders_.

He hadn't been the accessory to crimes against sentient life.

But, when he'd become a soldier of the _Empire_...when he'd taken that first treacherous shot at General Kenobi...that's when Cody stopped living with any code of honor.

That's when he'd turned into the monster. Into the tool of hatred and evil.

That's when his dreams started to be haunted by screams and death.

That's when he'd started finding solace in a vicious cycle of alcohol and stims.

That's when he'd allowed himself to stand by while his brother's committed atrocities _and he did nothing_.

The turning point had come at Bellassa.

_Bellassa._

Cody groaned and thrashed in his fitful sleep. His legs got tangled in the sheets and his arm flopped sporadically over the edge of the bed as he flung his hand out at some unseen terror.

_Bellassa._

The name was worst than a ghost. It haunted Cody's conscious with an immortal persistence and the only way he knew to exorcise it, was with the strongest Corellian imported spirits that he could afford.

_Bellassa._

Her screams for help - for _mercy_, for _justice_ - were still as vivid and real as the day he'd heard them. She had pleaded with his brothers - with _his_ troops. She had pleaded with _him,_ as their commander_._

He had stood at the door.

_And had done nothing_.

There had been no orders for the brutality that befell her. Nothing direct, at least. No clear-cut Order 66 to exonerate Cody's fraying conscious from responsibility. They had operated under the directives of Order 37 - to "suppress local civilian populations" in order to force the surrender of the rogue Jedi, Ferus Olin.

But, Order 37 said nothing about doing what they'd done. Nothing at all. Not even if she was the woman suspected of aiding and abetting an enemy of the Empire.

They'd had no right to take what they would later dismiss as an "interrogation" into their own hands. Cody had had no right in letting them. But he had.

And, in that moment - when he'd stood in the doorway and turned his back on her frantic screams - he'd lost his honor. His dignity. His self.

And in the nights following, when her screams tortured him as they did now, he realized that he could no longer live with himself.

He still couldn't live with himself. Six months chasing away the memories of his sins hadn't changed that.

Her screams mingled into his own as he fought against the sheets that threatened to bind him. Cody gained just enough consciousness to be gripped by nauseousness yet again. The emptying of his stomach hours earlier hadn't done much for him.

There was still plenty left to lose.

Instinctively, he leaned over the bed. A cool hand pressed against the back of his neck for the second time that night. And a bucket miraculously appeared under his hanging head.

Cody wretched, his stomach turning sourly against the mix of alcohol and emotions that battled for the supremacy of his system. Tears streaked down his cheeks as his body tried violently to expel the whiskey he'd consumed in uncounted quantities. When he was able to gasp for air, he tried to speak. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say, but the ghostly sound of her screams still echoed between his ears. His heart still pounded in a fear he couldn't explain; his soul still cringed in a self-loathing he couldn't assuage.

Cool, soft hands held his head and held his bucket, until he was done. And then, his faceless caretaker eased him onto his back and pressed a cold, damp cloth against his cheeks and forehead.

Cody panted, his stomach sore from its upheaval. His head still felt woozy - there was still more alcolhol to lose, he was sure. But, he felt significantly closer to sobriety than he had when he'd found his way into this unfamiliar bed.

"Drink this," the gentle feminine voice from earlier that night spoke again.

She put an arm under his shoulders and helped him sit up. Cody's stomach protested weakly for a second or two, but it passed - the worst had been forced from his body. His lips came in contact with the cold edge of a glass and his hand floundered for a moment before it found hers.

Her fingers felt so small under his, almost delicate in their fineness. Cody tried not to cringe as his hand came in contact with hers.

He didn't deserve to touch a woman. Not even to steady a glass so he could take a drink. Not ever. Not after Bellassa.

She tipped the glass and a strange liquid greeted his tongue. He jerked his head to the side and tried to push her hand away, but she wasn't have any of it.

"It'll help settle your stomach."

Cody finally opened his sleep-gritted eyes. The room was dark and cool; her face was cast in shadow, but he was struck again by something...different...about her.

"C'mon," she coaxed gently, moving the glass back toward his lips.

Cody acquiesced, but kept a wary eye on her as he sipped the contents of the glass. He'd never tasted anything like it before. It tasted..._green_, was the only adjective he could come up with. But, it was cool and it was sweet, and she was right.

It settled his stomach. And, it even helped alleviate the parched nastiness in his mouth.

She waited patiently, holding him and helping him, as he finished the whole glass. As he drank, Cody took stock of the environment around him - six months was enough to reduce him to a state of personal squalor, but it wasn't enough to eradicate a whole lifetime of honed instincts.

The room was small; he couldn't tell if it was hers or a guest bedroom, but he surmised, based on the tasteful impersonality of the surroundings, that it was a guest bedroom. The bed was clean and soft; the only other furniture in the room was a table, a chair, and a small trunk in the far corner. There was one window on the wall behind her; someone, he assumed her, had opened it, and Anobis' moon shone silver beyond a pair of gauzy curtains. A mild breeze ruffled the edges of the curtains and wafted cool air against his too-warm skin.

He didn't remember stumbling back from the cantina. He remembered puking practically on her shoes; he dimly remembered someone pulling his shirt over his head, and pulling his boots and socks off of his feet, but that was about it. He didn't remember her helping him along. He didn't remember laying down on the bed, or being tucked under sheets that smelled freshly washed.

He swallowed the last of whatever it was she'd made him drink and she leaned over him as she helped lay back down.

"Sleep, soldier," she whispered, brushing her fingers gently across his forehead.

Something about the gesture seemed oddly familiar to him, but between the stress of the alcohol and the distress of his dreams, he couldn't place it. It was comforting, though, and he felt his eyes drifting shut despite himself.

He didn't want to sleep again. He didn't want to face the screams.

"Sleep without dreams," her fingers ghosted across his forehead for a second time; this time, Cody couldn't think of any reason why he should resist.

He expected her to leave him, then. But, she stayed. For several minutes, there was just the sound of the wind whispering through the open window and his loud breathing as he struggled to let go of the lingering darkness that had awakened him in the first place.

And then, she did something quite remarkable.

She sang.

"Ag amharc trí m'óige,  
Is mé 'bhí sámh,  
Gan eolas marbh  
Bhí mé óg gan am."

The song meant nothing to Cody. He wasn't Gree - he couldn't even begin to place her alien language.

"Anois, táim buartha,  
's fad ar shiúil an lá.  
Ochón 's ochón ó."

Yet, something in the tune matched the despair that had taken hold of his heart. It was full of sadness and for a moment, he wondered how someone like her could find words for what he couldn't express himself.

"Na laetha geal m'óige  
Bhí siad lán de dhóchas  
An bealach mór a bhí romham anonn  
Bhí sé i ndán domh go mbéinn, slán, slán."

The song drifted across his ragged sense of failure like a requiem. And as he slowly let go of his consciousness, he could almost imagine that she was singing of his loss and of all the faces he'd never see again.

"Anois, táim buartha,  
's fad ar shiúil an lá.  
Ochón 's ochón ó."

And for the first time, he imagined General Kenobi's face - not in shock and betrayal, but with that quiet smile he'd sometimes share at one of Cody's bad jokes. He thought of Rex - a face exactly like his own and yet so totally different. He thought of Commander Tano and her unflagging youthfulness in the face of a war that threatened to rob it from her. He thought of General Skywalker and the strength Cody had always admired within the man.

"Na laetha geal m'óige  
Bhí siad lán de dhóchas  
An bealach mór a bhí romham anonn  
Bhí sé i ndán domh go mbéinn, slán, slán."

They were gone, as long lost as Cody's innocence. But, for once, he didn't feel the need to drown them out in some alcoholic outlet. He let them drift through his mind, carried by the tune of his benefactor's song.

It was a requiem in their memory. In the memory of all the many lives Cody had taken. In memory of all the many lives Cody had seen taken. In memory of the life of a woman he hadn't saved.

"Anois, táim buartha,  
's fad' ar shiúil an lá.  
Ochón 's ochón ó."

It was a requiem in memory of _him_.

And somehow, the thought comforted him. He rolled over onto his side, facing the woman sitting on a chair next to his bed, and fell into the first sound sleep he'd had since the Empire had stolen his soul.

* * *

**A/N: **_Once again, this fic (and this chapter in particular) is strongly influenced by __**"Not Alone"**__ by __**BetaReject**__. I would strongly recommend that if you like ATS, that you check out "Not Alone". :) And, for that matter, any and all of BetaReject's clone-centric one-shots. They're quite amazing!_

_I would also recommend picking up/downloading/etc **Linkin Park**'s newest album, **A Thousand Suns**, which has been a huge inspiration for the tone of this fic._

_The song sung by 'Tay (Cody's benefactress), is **"Na Laetha Gael M'oige"** by **Enya**. The translation is as follows:_

Looking back over my youth,  
I was content,  
Without knowledge of death  
I was young, without time,

Now I'm sorrowful,  
The day is long past.  
Alas and woe, oh.

The bright days of my youth  
They were full of hope  
The great journey that was before me then  
Was what was destined to be, bye bye.

Now I'm sorrowful,  
The day is long past.  
Alas and woe, oh.

The bright days of my youth  
They were full of hope  
The great journey that was before me then  
Was what was destined to be, bye bye.

Now I am sorrowful,  
The day is long past.  
Alas and woe, oh.

_Translation comes from pathname dot com. The song is I felt it was rather fitting for Cody's frame of mind._

_And that's all for now, folks! Love it? Like it? Hate it? Lemme know!_


	2. The Radiance

**Credit:** _Once again, the inspiration for ATS comes from **BetaReject** and her most awesome Cody fic, **"Not Alone"**. I highly recommend checking both BetaReject and all her clone one-shots - they be awesome!_

_

* * *

_

_"We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent. I remember the line from the Hindu scripture, __The Bhagavad-Gita__. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty, and to impress him, takes on his multi-armed form and says: 'Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.' I suppose we all thought that, one way or another."_

**Linkin Park  
The Radiance**

**

* * *

**

Cody woke up cursing.

The window, which had been a source of soothing moonlight breezes just hours before, had become the focus of a blinding hangover. Anobis' too-bright sun shone cheerfully through the gauzy excuse for curtains and the sounds of the busy street below them hammered against Cody's skull like a mine drill. His stomach hurt, his mouth tasted sour, and his head felt like it was about to explode.

A string of profanity tracked Cody's movements across the generously-sized bed, as he rolled over onto his other side, away from the window, and stuck his head underneath the feeble protection of a pillow. The feelings of peace and serenity that had accompanied his hours of sleeping had almost instantly evaporated within seconds of his return to consciousness. For several long minutes, he tried to hide from the bustling morning, but the soft sound of the bedroom door sliding open heralded the abrupt end to his aversion tactics.

"Good morning," her voice was just as smooth and gentle as the night before, but it sounded decidedly less ethereal in the light of day and reality.

He heard her footsteps approach the bed. Logically, he knew that her tread was probably quite light, but the enormity of his hangover blew everything out of proportion. As she set a glass down on the table beside the sound, Cody could have sworn she'd just marched across the bare floor in hobnailed boots and set off a detonator by his head.

He almost sort of wished she _would_ set an explosive off next to his head. It'd be a fairly quick and painless conclusion to his misery.

"Hangover?"

There was a hint of something else underneath her words. Amusement? Cody almost snarled.

"When you're ready, there's something here that'll help take the edge off of the pain."

Cody remembered her near-magical concoction from the night before. Usually, his stomach would still be contributing to the general aura of hangover, but thanks to whatever she'd given him, the only pain he felt was from his stomach muscles having worked too hard hard too quickly to expel the worst of his binge. He figured she probably wasn't out to poison him and he almost felt like she'd just thrown him out a lifeline.

Anything that would help quiet the thundering in his skull was nothing short of a personalized gift from the metaphorical gods.

"I'd recommend taking a shower, first, though," her hand brushed against his naked shoulder, as if to encourage him to start moving, and Cody flinched.

The tight bunching of muscles made him groan. There was a hitch in her breath, as if she was biting back a laugh and he snarled a curse in Huttese into the mattress.

"I sincerely hope you can find better uses for that mouth of yours, than cursing," her words were prim, but Cody could still catch the undercurrent of a laugh.

He grumbled something inarticulate; at this point, he realized he was just trying to provoke her. Why, he couldn't really say, but he supposed it was just because misery loved company. If she was angry, maybe he would feel quite so guilty over laying in her clean guest bed with the taste of revisited alcohol on his tongue and a herd of banthas chasing each other around the inside of his head.

"There's a 'fresher just off this room," she continued, as if she hadn't heard his mumbling; as sharp as her hearing seemed to be, Cody doubted that, but he didn't have it in him to keep provoking her.

Not if there was a chance of a hot shower.

"Feel free to help yourself," her voice began to retreat toward the door. "And if you drink the tea I left you, your stomach should feel fine enough to eat in about an half hour."

She paused and Cody heard the door slide open; he imagined her turning her head over her shoulder before stepping out the door.

"I'll be in the kitchen or on the patio when you're done. Oh, and I've left some clothes on the chair by the table. They're yours, if you want them."

The door closed behind her and the room returned to barely filtered sunlight and relative silence. The ambient noise from the world outside didn't crash quite so hard against his senses any more and he ventured a peak out from underneath his pillow. Cody still didn't feel related to sentient life, but at least he was able to move. Motivated by the idea of a shower and clean clothes, the former commander slowly hauled himself out of bed.

His eyes were crusted in sleep and he rubbed a hand roughly across them. Cody blinked blearily against the sunlight and tried to focus on the steaming mug that was waiting from him just within arm's reach. He eyeballed the steam dubiously for a moment and decided it could wait until after a shower. He didn't feel like adding a burned tongue to his list of ailments for the morning.

Stifling a groan, he hauled himself to his unsteady feet and scrubbed a hand across his face and around the back of his neck. Cody's shoulders felt horrendously tight and his muscles ached as if he'd been fighting for hours before, instead of indulging in an alcoholic coma he couldn't really afford. He lingered for a few moments and just stood in the sunlight - which, for all of it's annoying qualities, was warm and vaguely comforting.

He felt _old_. He was barely in his teens, chronologically speaking. But, he was now well into his twenties, physiologically. His age was starting to make itself known in his joints, and muscles, and ligaments. Cody wondered what came after that - how long before he wouldn't even be able to get himself out of bed without help?

He ran a hand through his hair - a habit he'd picked up from General Kenobi, oddly enough - and shuffled toward the door.

He might not feel shiny and new anymore, like he did at the start of the Clone Wars. But, he wasn't dead yet. And the idea of hot water, soap, clean clothes, food, and pain relief were still enough to get him moving.

Even with a throbbing headache and screaming muscles.

* * *

He put his palms flat against the shower stall wall and leaned back against the water in a modified standing push-up position. The slanted angle put his middle and lower back in the perfect position to benefit most from the pounding water. Cody let his head hang between his biceps and almost groaned in pleasure.

Anobis Mining Company offered living quarters for their unmarried workers; it was, ostensibly, a grand gesture to help recruit new workers, but in reality, the quarters were little better than the very worst barracks Cody had ever encountered in the military. There was one 'fresher for every floor of one-roomed quarters and Cody was lucky if he could ever find a time to take a shower, much less ever get a _hot_ one. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd encountered hot water; ever since the water heater and generator broke in his quarters block about three months before, he'd been making due with cold showers as often as he could bring himself to take one.

As it was, it'd been half a week, at least, since he'd been able to shower. And, now, he got hot water _and_ privacy. He didn't have to worry about anyone telling him to hurry up, either. So, he leaned back and let his muscles unwind under the steady flow of steaming water. It was a rare luxury that he wasn't about to pass up.

The combination of steam and heat seemed to help clear his head, too. The pounding between his ears subsided and he didn't feel quite so brittle anymore. In fact, he felt almost human enough to start investigating the bottles lined up neatly against the wall of the shower, at his feet. After a few more moments of simple pleasure, he took one hand off of the wall and leaned down toward his knees.

He picked up the first bottle and flipped the cap open with his thumb. An investigative sniff confirmed the identity of the bottle's contents - shampoo. Cody sniffed again and concluded that the scent was decidedly neutral. Not that he cared too much, but if he could avoid smelling like a woman, he'd consider his options. As it was, his options were rather limited, so he was quite pleased to find that the contents of the bottle didn't smell like spice, or fruit, or flowers, or a sneeze-inducing combination of all three.

It smelled...well..._blue_ was the best he could come up with. It was a clean scent that seemed vaguely familiar, but Cody couldn't quite placed it. He worked his hair into a lather and squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned his head back under the water. What had once been an every-day ritual was now an unspoken luxury; Cody reflected briefly on how very far he'd fallen.

As he rinsed shampoo out of hair that he'd let grow untrimmed past his shoulders, Cody also reflected how a few scant hours around an unknown woman seemed to inspire some sense of personal decency again. There was something about her that was very familiar and, for being so, very unsettling.

Her strange familiarity seemed to trigger patterns of behavior that he'd tried his best to suppress for the last six months. He frowned at the wall; he'd be quite interested in evaluating her in the clarity of sobriety and daylight.

Cody took the rest of his time in the shower to ponder the strange set of circumstances that had befallen him. So far as he knew, he hadn't done anything to warrant the kindness, or the attention, of a stranger. He quickly determined that the first question he was going to ask her, was "what do you want?" With the exception of Jedi like Masters Kenobi and Skywalker, Cody had learned fairly early on that random acts of kindness weren't really quite that random.

They usually hid a catch.

It didn't take him too long to finish his shower, even with long moments of lingering under the hot water. As he toweled himself off, Cody took a moment to consider himself in the full-length mirror set in the wall beside the 'fresher sink.

He hadn't gone soft, so much in the last six months, as he'd gone _careless_. The hard work in the mines had kept his arms, chest, shoulders, and back fairly well-toned; he hadn't lost a lot of muscle mass there at all. But, his stomach was starting to show signs of his nightly abuses; his six-pack was slowly rounding out into a keg.

He'd let his hair grow long; it was down to his shoulders, now, and even washed, it was clear that he hadn't kept it well-groomed. It'd been at least a week since his face had met with a razor and facial scruff was quickly developing into a full-out beard. Cody scraped his palm against his unshaven cheeks; at that moment, the ex-trooper would have given anything to have his barracks kit within easy reach.

He felt _old_. Depression - his intimate companion of the last several months - began to settle around his shoulders and the endorphin rush he'd felt from the shower began to dissipate rapidly in the wake of his reflection.

A part of him knew he shouldn't keep looking. But, Cody couldn't seem to look away from his reflection. His eyes traveled down the length of the mirror, as he took in the visual realization of what he'd become. Long-haired...unshaven...sore-jointed...weak-stomached... Even his legs were beginning to show the signs of his unhealthy lifestyle. He'd lost the sharp definition of the muscles in his thighs and even his calves were starting to lose their firm shape.

But, it wasn't the loss of definition that drew Cody's attention. It was the row of scars and healing skin along the sides of his thighs that made his lips thin in grim recognition.

It was easiest to just jab the stim needles into the meaty part of his thighs. On both sides, his thighs were riddled with the signs of his abuse, as clear as the softening of his abdomen from the alcohol. One of the newer wounds nearest his left hip, had opened in the shower and had just started to scab fresh over the punctured skin.

Shame settled hard in Cody's chest. Shame and revulsion.

So, this is what he'd become? He resisted the urge to shove his fist into his reflection's chin and instead settled for turning away. But, the sight he'd seen was marked indelibly into his mind.

And, the sight of his thighs had stirred the habitual craving he had for stims. Even though this was the first morning that he could remember in months, where he'd woken up without an instant need for the medical-class drugs, Cody still found the marks of his abuse just enough to make his body scream for what he'd come to depend on to get him through the day.

He had a needle stashed safely away in the leg pocket of his industrial-issue mining pants. Cody turned his back to the mirror, so he wouldn't have to see what he was doing in such stark color.

He picked up his pants off of the floor and fished for a minute before finding the slender needle. Half of his paycheck went to alcohol - the other to stims. It was hard to get the medical-grade drug, but Cody had found that the street equivalent was cheaper and stronger. The only set back was that you could never be one hundred percent sure that the street stims were "clean"; the wrong combination of impurities could poison a user's blood, or worse.

It was a risk he didn't really care about taking any more.

Cody hissed softly under his breath as he jabbed the needle into his right thigh. He knew it would be several minutes before the stims actually kicked in, but the ritual of pushing the sharp needle into his skin was enough to make him sigh in relief. Just a few more minutes and his energy levels would rise, his head would clear, and he'd be able to push the depression to the back of his mind for just a few hours more.

Until the night came. When he'd drown himself in sorrows until he could finally find some sleep.

* * *

Cody's hands shook as he picked up the cup of tea that had been waiting for him. The stims had kicked in, in the few minutes that it had taken for him to finish up in the bathroom. The first "rush" always made him shakey - it was imperative that he get something into his stomach so he could settle down and focus.

He was curious about what the woman had left behind, though, so he swallowed large gulps of it while he pulled on the clean clothes she'd left on the bedside chair. The tea was mellow and still fairly warm; once again, Cody had no reference for taste, but it wasn't unpleasant. Stims couldn't get rid of a headache, but as he drank the luke-warm liquid, he could feel the dull throb around his ears start to abate.

As he slipped the clean, borrowed shirt over his head, Cody was suddenly struck by how _well_ the clothes fit him. It was a little odd, really - usually, borrowed clothes were awkward and ill-fitting in even some small way. But, with the exception of around his midsection, the clothes fit perfectly. He considered them for a moment - they weren't anything fancy. Just a pair of dark brown, baggy pants and a dark-green, open-necked shirt. He rather liked them.

She'd even left behind clean socks. Cody slipped them on and then grabbed his beaten-up boots. Even with shaking fingers, it only took him seconds to pull his boots on and tie them up; getting dressed was never something Cody had lingered on.

Unlike Fox, who used to take his time - often to the aggrivation of anyone waiting on him to go somewhere.

It was the little things, like that, that used to set his clone brothers apart. Cody missed them - he always missed them - but he shoved the thought back into the darkest reaches of his conscious.

He didn't have time to dwell in the past. Not now. Not during the hours when he was expected to be awake and working.

Working.

Cody winced and glanced almost guiltily toward the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. It was at least the 10th hour of the morning - he was a good six hours behind schedule.

_Jarvis is gonna' kill me... _he thought sourly of his rules-lawyering overseer.

To Cody's credit, he'd never missed a day of work in six months, even _with_ his nightly binges. Jarvis, though, wasn't the type to overlook "uncharacteristic behavior." The man wasn't much better than a droid when it came to the enforcement of regulation; as far as he was concerned, the rules were the rules, no matter if it was the first infraction or the hundredth.

Cody was looking at a temporary reduction of pay and extra hours. He swore profusely as he knocked back the last of the woman's tea.

Working for the mines was about as bad as working for the army. The only difference being, at least the army offered decent food, clothing, and shelter.

Or, at least, food, clothing and shelter more decent than what Anobis Mining Company offered. Which, honestly, wasn't saying much.

For a moment, he considered grabbing his dirty clothes and finding his way out of the apartment and to the streets below. But...Jarvis would dole out the same punishment if he was six or sixty hours late, so it didn't really matter. Late was late. He might as well enjoy a hot breakfast, before going back to the drudgery of the mines.

And, truth be told, he didn't want to leave before taking a look at this mystery woman. Cody didn't really want to talk to her, but talking was the only way he was going to get some answers to his questions.

* * *

It didn't take much for Cody to find her; the apartment was a modest one and the patio connected to the central living room. From what the ex-trooper could gather, there were two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a patio; it was a small home, but clean, well-kept, and peaceful.

When he stepped out onto the patio, Cody nearly stopped in awe. The sight that greeted his still-sensitive eyes was nothing short of _radiant_.

She was sitting with her back to him, but her pure-white hair seemed to shine in the sunlight. As he cautiously stepped around to face her, his eyes took in the glow that seemed to reflect off of her pale, but flawless skin. And there was quite a lot of pale, flawless skin to be seen.

She was wearing a sleeveless blue dress that was gathered with large golden brooches at the shoulders. It draped across her breasts in a wide, scooped neckline and draped open across her back. He couldn't see where the open back ended, since she was sitting in a close-backed chair, but he saw enough to be duly awed. Her skin_glowed_, perfect.

The only jewelry she wore was a pair of gold studs that winked in the sunlight as he turned to face her fully. Her dressed reached down to her ankles, which were crossed demurely in front of her. She was holding a gently steaming cup in her hands and she lifted her face to smile at him when he stopped and stared.

Across where her eyes should have been, was a narrow band of decorated gold. It was designed rather like a headband, with intricate scrolls and whirls inscribed on the pale yellow metal. For a moment, Cody was confused, but then he realized what it meant.

She was a Miraluka - a race of Near Humans that were born without eyes.

So, that had been what had seemed so "off" about her. He had seen her headband, where her eyes should have been. He'd been too drunk to make the connection, but he'd been instinctively thrown off by her appearance.

Cody flushed, embarrassed for some reason he couldn't name. She was beautiful - _radiantly_ beautiful, like some ethereal alien sun goddess.

"Good morning," she smiled brightly and waved him toward a chair that was right behind him and directly across from her. "I hope my appearance doesn't unsettle you," she seemed to have misinterrupted his awkward silence. "I've found that the Miraluka aren't well-known in this particular region of the Galaxy.

"Please, eat," she waved her hand again, indicating a small side-table that stood off to the side, within arm's reach of their chairs. "I hope you don't mind simple fare in the morning, but I've found a light breakfast sits best with a hangover's stomach."

Cody lifted a dubious eyebrow as he settled into the chair she'd offered him. By the looks of her, he rather doubted she'd ever woken up with a hangover.

She laughed, as if reading his thoughts. Cody looked at her suspiciously, but she didn't do anything more than shake her head and smile widely. When she didn't say anything, he shifted his attention to the food next to his elbow; she'd arranged an assortment of fruit and sweetbreads on a platter, along with a jug of what appeared to be some kind of milk.

He was male, after all. Beautiful woman or not, there was food to be had.

He picked up one of the fruits and popped it into his mouth. It was sweet and juicy, with an underlying taste of tart that lingered on the tongue. Cody had fully intended for his first question to be something along the lines of "what do you want", but what came out instead was "what is this?"

"It's blumfruit," 'Tay smiled over the edge of her cup as she took a sip of her tea. "Homegrown, might I add."

"You grow fruit?" Cody eyed her again as he popped another piece of fruit into his mouth.

She didn't look like the kind to get dirty and sweaty in a garden. She didn't look like the kind to dirty or sweaty, period. No matter what the activity was on hand. As she sat in the morning sun, glowing in shades of blue, white, and gold, it was hard to imagine her in any state other than immaculate.

"I grow many things," her smile seemed almost secret, as if her words held a deeper meaning than the obvious.

She then shrugged, not seeing the briefly puzzled look on his face but perhaps sensing it, and motioned with a hand toward the city at large.

"I actually live on the _other_ side of Anobis - the agricultural side," she began by way of explanation. "I own a few acres, a few small specialty gardens, and a few hothouses. I grow medicinal plants for my own enjoyment, but I sell most of what I grow to two of the largest pharmecutical companies here in the capitol."

Cody watched her face carefully as he chowed down on the blumfruit - he found the fruit's tanginess rather addictive. She seemed to make a very definite distinction between _growing for_ herself and _selling to_ the companies. The ex-commander made a note of that - it said something about her personal character.

"I also sell to the hospital pharmacies and some smaller medical practices around the capitol," she continued and then waved a hand at the patio and the living room beyond. "I make enough money to keep my land and live rather comfortably. I rent this small apartment for the fallow season - the late autumn and winter months. This time of year is when I leave my home on the other side of Anobis and travel to the capitol to sell what I've grown. I have several contracts around the city, so it takes me quite a number of weeks to conclude my business. So, I stay here."

She turned her face toward him and smiled softly before taking another sip of tea.

"Which is how I ended up having a place to bring you to, last night."

Ah. So, she'd brought them quite neatly to the crux of the conversation Cody had wanted to have in the first place. Blumfruit or not, he didn't waste any time taking advantage of the verbal opening she'd left him.

"Why _did_ you bring me back here, last night?"

He knew she couldn't see him, but he narrowed his eyes into a scowl all the same. The frown was instinctual - his suspicion wasn't far behind.

Her response surprised him. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she set her cup down on the small table by her side for a long moment and turned her face toward the living room, as if searching for something she'd never be able to see.

When she turned back to Cody, the gentle peacefulness of her features seemed oddly strained. It was hard to tell, without eyes to watch, but he was almost certain that the expression that had etched itself into the fine lines around her mouth and in her forehead, was pain.

Her voice was soft, when she finally spoke.

"You remind me of someone I used to know."

The words tumbled out of Cody's mouth before he could stop them.

"You can't even see me."

He instantly regretted what he'd said, but nothing changed about the expression on her face, except that she dipped her head to "look" down at her hands, which she'd folded neatly into her lap.

"No, I can't see you. Not physically. But, I can see you through the Force. It's the inherent gift of all Miraluka. It's how we see, without seeing," she paused for a moment, before continuing, her voice softer than before. "You have a signature very similiar to that other person."

"I imagine there's several thousand in the galaxy who look the same in the Force, too," Cody snorted contemptuously; he couldn't help his lack of filter.

The words just came tumbling out. It was more than he'd spoken in _months_. And, good or bad, he felt compelled to speak his mind around her - if, for no other reason, than that he had nothing to gain or lose by what he said. There was only room for blunt and honest truth in his world. He'd gotten tired of speaking in shades of grey.

He also couldn't tell if his words hurt her. She seemed...suddenly impassive. Her peacefulness was replaced by a guarded serenity even words couldn't seem to breach.

It frustrated Cody, though he couldn't say why.

"No," she answered calmly, though her face fell back toward her hands. "In the Force, not even clones are identical. I have met many that were as unique to themselves as any individual."

She shrugged and Cody was suddenly gripped with a fierce curiosity. What did _she_ know of clones?

"But, maybe that's what drew me to you. I don't know what it is about you, exactly. But, there's something of you in the Force, that is _very_ much like a man I once knew. I guess you could say, it caught my eye."

She smiled, then, but it was small and almost sad. This time, Cody watched what he said. He owed the woman a debt of gratitude, if nothing else; there was no need to poke at obvious wounds.

"How did you know I was a trooper?" he asked, instead of pursuing questions about this mysterious man of whom he reminded her.

"Saa helped me when I first settled here on Anobis. You could say that he and I are old friends, of a sort. I came into town a few days before and when I saw you at the cantina, I started to wonder a few things. I asked Saa to describe you to me - I've had many people describe clones to me, before, because I could never literally see what it was about them that confused or horrified others," she glanced up and tilted her head to the side in a curious little gesture. "It wasn't hard to figure out that you were a clone, from Saa's description.

"Though, to be honest," she smiled a truly geniune smile for the first time in a while. "It was a bit of a gamble, when I called you 'Trooper'. These sorts of things are _always_a gamble for a Miraluka - we can never be 100% sure with anything, except through the Force. And it's hard to identify identical men, when they're _not_ identical through the Force."

"Huh," was about the most intelligent thing Cody could think to say.

He didn't know about the Force. He couldn't even _pretend_ to understand it, much less fathom its mysterious ways. He liked to think he had a better layman's working knowledge of it than most of his clone brothers, thanks to General Kenobi's many attempts to explain the Force and other Jedi philosophies. But, in the end, it was still a bunch of mystical mumbo-jumbo to Cody.

All he knew, was what he could see. And it was hard for him to comprehend how a whole race like the Miraluka could become pilots or Jedi, when they were lacking a sense that - to Cody - seemed crucial to fundamental survival.

"So, you brought me back to your place and gave me a bed to sleep in for the night, because I_ reminded _you of someone?" he decided to move the conversation back to more practical ground.

"Yes," this time, the answer was simple, instantaneous, and direct.

Cody lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

"No catch?"

"No catch."

He wasn't exactly sure he'd say she was lying...but she wasn't telling the whole truth, either. Maybe there wasn't a catch, but there_ was_ something she wasn't telling him. And that made Cody nervous, to say the least.

Rational, normal women, didn't pick up complete strangers in a bar and take them back home just to nurse them back to health.

Did they?

"It's like I told Saa," her voice was soft, like the night before.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. It was as if she could sense what he was thinking.

"It's in my nature to care. Especially for those beings that others forget to see."

The irony of her words wasn't lost on Cody. It made him uncomfortable.

"Well, if there's no catch, then I thank you for your kindness. But, I've gotta' get back to work," he got to his feet abruptly and lingered only a moment to snatch the last blumfruit off of the platter by his hand.

"What's your name?" she asked, as he moved toward the sliding glass doors that seperated the patio from the living room.

He paused a moment, his hand on the glass, before he answered.

"Cody," and, because it was only polite, "What's yours?"

"Sheltay. Sheltay Marr. But, my friends call me 'Tay."

"Thank you..." Cody paused. "'Tay."

He meant to call her "Sheltay." But, "Tay" just slipped out. It seemed...natural.

"Your welcome, Cody," her soft voice followed him through the open door. "We'll meet again."

* * *

She let him leave, just like that. No guilt. No preaching. No desperate attempt to show him the error of his ways, or to save him. She was a flash of brilliant radiance against the darkness that was his life.

Cody came to treasure the memory of her small face and her cool hands. He remembered her, in her gold and her silver and her blue - pure and perfect in the mid-morning sun. He remembered her peacefulness - and he envied her the luxury.

He went back to the life he knew - to the squalor, and the drinking, and the stims, and the menial drudgery. He went back to the cantina that very night; he didn't see her, even though he looked around for her.

He looked around for her every night, but didn't see her. She said she lived in the city during the 'fallow season', but either Cody never spotted her through his alcoholic fog, or she just never came back to the cantina. As the month stretched into two months, he even came to resent her.

She'd blazed across his misery like a wishing star - she'd reminded him of his humanity. Of his voice. Of his dignity. Of his past.

And she'd let him walk out. She'd extended a hand of kindness, just to torture him with the knowledge of what he'd never hope to have. She'd given him just more reasons to loathe himself; she'd given him just one more memory to drown beneath the bottle.

Cody drank himself into a stupor, night after night, haunted by the past. Haunted by screams. Haunted by _radiance_. He drank until he realized that he would never find the courage to kill himself and that he'd never find the courage to live.

So, he picked fights. Saa kicked him out of the cantina, but Cody kept coming back. Until, one night, he picked a fight with one of Saa's new bouncers - a brutish Nikta with no sense of humor and a quick hand with a viroblade.

Too drunk to feel pain and too drunk to realize the danger he was in, Cody fought until he suddenly realized his conscious wasn't in his body anymore. With a weird, existential detachment, he watched as the Nikta dragged his bleeding body around the corner of the cantina and tossed him into an alleyway.

He watched as he lay there, bleeding his life out into the cold, half-frozen street.

So, this was how far he'd fallen. The respected Commander Cody - left to die a deserter and a drunk, in a Mid-Rim backworld, in a filthy side-street.

It seemed fitting.

He watched as he coughed, blood staining the corners of his mouth as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. Suddenly, he felt himself back in his body, he felt the pain of far too many wounds, the pain of trying to struggle against a rib that was surely broken.

And then, he felt cool hands against his forehead and he managed to open the one eye that hadn't swollen shut. And, he looked up into radiance.

_Her_ radiance.

Flawless skin. Small face. White hair. Gold headband.

"Shhhh," she whispered as she pressed her palm flat against his forehead. "It's okay, Cody. You're safe, now."


	3. Burning In the Skies

**Reading Note:**_ Anything in italics is a dream/hallucination. Just FYI. There are parts where that's interwoven with what's actually going on, which is written in the normal font._

* * *

_"I used the dead wood to make the fire rise / The blood of innocents burning in the skies / I filled my cup with the rising of the sea / I poured it out in an ocean of debris."_

**Linkin Park  
"Burning In the Skies"**

* * *

_The sun was burning blood across the sky as it began to dip below the sand-blasted Geonosis horizon. Cody was covered in a thin film of dirt, grime, and bug slime. He tried not to think about how much intestinal fortitude it was going to take, to scrub the plates of his armor clean._

_It was like this after every battle. Sometimes, it took days for him to get cleaned. By the time he'd reach the showers on some thrice-blessed naval cruiser or medship, Cody was more than disgusted with the grime that had practically become a part of his bodysuit. He hated carrying the bloody stains of battle back to what little respite he earned afterward; he hated having to wash himself, his bodysuit, his weapons, his armor. He hated having to revisit the realities of war not once. Not twice. But over and over again._

_And, once he wiped his armor clean - there was more. Always more. Always blood and burning skies._

_He turned to tell General Kenobi that they'd better get moving, but when he looked behind him, nothing was there. No General Kenobi. No General Skywalker. No General Undali. No extraction team waiting to fly them out._

_And Cody's men were scattered across the ground in a litter of broken bodies. Horrified, Cody stared at the ground at his feet - blood ran freely in rivulets around his boots. Blood poured from a hundred wounds, from a dozen severed limbs, from over 20 headless bodies. The stench of death - sweat, pungent, and rotting - filled Cody's mouth and nose with a gagging oppression._

_The filters on his helmet could protect against nerve agents, poisonous gas, and airborne chemicals. But it could do nothing for stench or revulsion._

_Cody doubled over and dry heaved in warning. With frantic movements not dissimilar to a caged animal, Cody fumbled with his helmet and practically ripped it off. The last thing he wanted was to hurl inside of the confines of his HUD._

It took him a few moments to realize what was happening; pain helped focus his thoughts. Cool hands held him as he emptied the contents of his feeble stomach. As Cody wretched in short heaves, he became dimly aware of a red, dusky light. Geonosis' setting sun flashed before his mind's eye and he shuddered.

"Waxer!" the name was a strangled shout ripped from the deepest part of Cody's throat. "Waxer!"

He started to shake; one of the severed helmets and mangled bodies stood out in stark relief against the backdrop of his memories. It Waxer's, unmistakably identifiable by the "kill-marks" the amiable clone etched into the side of his helmet. Waxer was an easy-going man and oddly sentimental - as shown by his pseudo-adoption of a young Twi'lek during the liberation of Ryloth - but even Waxer had his darker side. He kept track of his confirmed kills and Cody had never known the man to miss a count.

Waxer. He'd died, head severed by a Jedi lightsaber. Cody remembered, now. He leaned over the side of the bed and tried to puke again, but nothing came up, except dry heaves. He couldn't stop shaking; the vision of Waxer's bloody body seemed to fill his sight, his mind.

Waxer had died, trying to take down a Jedi. Cody had shot the cornered Nautolaun and the younger Padawan he'd been protecting - but not before the Padawan had managed to take off Waxer's head.

That was at Sarrish. He'd lost Waxer at Sarrish, right after Utapau, at the start of the Purge. Not Geonosis. Not during the War.

Why had he seen Geonosis? Cody shook uncontrollably.

"Shh," Tay's soft voice tried to sooth him, but Cody panicked when she leaned over him, to help him lay back down.

Her face was stained red. As red as the Geonosis dirt. As red as the blood of his troops that washed his boots with the last remnants of their life.

"Waxer!" Cody shouted, in the true throes of a hallucination.

He didn't see Tay leaning over him any more. He saw Waxer - sightless eye staring, bloody. Dead.

_Cody couldn't see Waxer's face behind the impersonal T-shaped visor of his helmet. Suddenly, he didn't want to; he didn't want to know what lay beneath the helmet. A deep dread welled up in the ex-commander's chest and he tried to back away from Waxer's looming body._

_But, there was no where else to go. Cody's left heel wavered and the sound of shale crumbled behind him, as if falling from a great height into an even greater depth. For just a second, he dared to divert his attention and look behind him - he was on the edge of a cliff. The drop below him was so great, that it seemed to swallow the still-burning sun as it set behind the dust-filled world around him._

_Cody had no where else to go - trapped between the abyss and Waxer's suddenly-whole body._

_"Waxer...!" Cody reached out a hand, as if to stop his trooper from coming any closer._

_Waxer did stop, but only for a moment. Without a word, he reached up and began to pull the helmet off his head. Cody's heart thundered in his chest and a sheen of sweat broke up across his upper lip. He didn't care if he plummeted into the darkness below him - he didn't want to see what was behind that helmet._

_He seemed frozen, though, in a time that never was. Waxer lifted his head, free of his helmet, and opaque, sightless eyes stared back at Cody._

_The commander had seen eyes like that before - on Queen Karina's undead Geonosian warriors. Cody opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out._

_Waxer simply grabbed his face between his bloody hands and pulled Cody's fear-frozen mouth toward his. Panic clawed inside of Cody's chest, howling for release, but he was paralyzed, helpless in the face of Waxer's revenge._

_His trooper's lips were cold; Cody didn't even process the strangeness of being kissed by a man, much less by one of his dead soldiers. It was just a function - a means to an end. Cody could feel the foreign body of the brain worm slip from Waxer's mouth and in between his own teeth. He could feel it slithering against his tongue, cold and slimy, as it worked it's way smoothly up into his naval cavity._

_Waxer let him go and Cody suddenly lost his balance. Screaming, he felt himself slide backwards over the edge of the cliff. Screaming, he felt the brain worm burrow into the folds of his mind. Screaming, he lost consciousness and the last thing he saw was Waxer's sightless, bloody face._

* * *

Cody drifted in and out of consciousness - he couldn't even begin to count the days that had passed. Everything was one huge blur of pain, of horror, of nightmares, and of terrors. The first time he'd come to consciousness long enough to throw up, he'd been too absorbed with Waxer's shade, to really take note of the pain that riddled his body. But, in subsequent returns to the conscious world, Cody became intimately familiar with pain.

He wasn't sure what pain was worse. The psychological pain of his terrors, where events of the past replayed themselves in psychotic inaccuracy? The emotional pain of realizing - even dimly - that he was a lost and broken man? Or, the physical pain that tinted his eyesight red from the agony of his wounds?

He couldn't say. He wasn't even in a mental state to speak, much less differentiate what pain was worse. All Cody knew was that he was awash in misery. In the misery of physical recovery. In the misery of withdrawal. In the misery of memory.

The only times he was free, was when he slept. And, even then, the dreams came for him... They reached for him. They cried his name in ghostly voices of the fallen. They haunted him with what could have been, what was, and what only happened in the darkest reaches of his unconscious.

Cody's body shook uncontrollably in their wake. He longed for the relief of an alcoholic fog, for the clarity of a stim high. He longed for release, for silence, for death.

He longed for a relief that never came, except with time and only after countless hours torn apart by hallucination after nightmare after terror.

* * *

A male voice broke into his dreams and Cody moved fitfully underneath its influence. The gruff intonations seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he was still caught in the harsh throes of fever and withdrawals - his brain refused to identify the truth of the mysterious voice and instead dragged up a voice from the past.

_"You think they'll send more troopers out here, sir?"  
_  
_Cody stood in front of an observation window, his arms crossed moodily against his white chest armor. He was looking down at the swirling, stormy blue-green surface of Felucia - a thrice-damned hellsore if ever there was one.  
_  
_They'd spent only a handful of days on the planet; as far as Cody was concerned, it was a handful of days too many. Grievous' Separatist forces were firmly entrenched on Felucia - more than two Jedi Masters and a couple of clone companies could handle, that was for sure. They'd all nearly become casualties, though it was hard to tell what would have done them in sooner - the Separatist tinnies or Felucia's nightmarish native life._

_"Oh, they'll send more. Many more," General Kenobi's voice was grim._

_He stood next to Cody, staring out toward the planet they were preparing to leave behind them in hyperspace. This was their first real loss of the war - or, at least it was for Cody._

_Failure didn't sit well with him. Not well at all._

_"Felucia is an important planet, in a key system for Republic success. We won't give up on it this easily. Give it time, Commander Cody. I'm sure we'll be back to settle the score, as it were," General Kenobi turned as if to leave and paused to put a hand on the clone's shoulder.  
_  
_Cody looked away from the window and met General Kenobi's weary, but still-confident face. It was this moment that he would remember as the turning point in their relationship, from two officers wary of each other's capabilities, to something more like friends._

Fever scrambled Cody's memories, like so much mush. Time meant nothing any more and what should have been a calming memory, turned sour, when someone touched his forearm. It was a male hand - rough and dry, not cool and soft like Tay's. Cody moaned and thrashed under the fingers that suddenly gripped him down against the bed.

His dream twisted.

_He wasn't facing General Kenobi against the backdrop of space, anymore. Now, he was on Utapau, struggling with a fierce and sudden regret that was seeping into his soul, after having ordered a nearby AT-TE walker to open fire on the General.  
_  
_What was he doing? General Kenobi had always been a friend. A confidant, even. At times, a mentor, too. Cody wasn't Force sensitive, but he'd never felt anything wrong or off about General Kenobi. Hell, they'd even gotten so comfortable around each other that when they were in the appropriate setting, away from the other troopers or Jedi, they called each other by first-name._

_Most of the time, in his head, the Jedi wasn't 'General Kenobi'. It was just 'Obi-wan.' An equal, nearly - with the exception of that whole Force-Jedi-thing.  
_  
_And sure, it was an order...an order Cody couldn't disobey. But..._

_What in the Nine Corellian Hells? This really didn't make any sense._

_But, orders were orders._

_Weren't they? If they weren't...if orders weren't infallible...if they weren't to be obeyed without question...then what was a clone's purpose in life? They had nothing else. They were only soldiers. Just soldiers, nothing else. They didn't know anything else. And their honor...their way of life...their sense of self, was wrapped up completely in what they did._

_In the orders they obeyed._

_Even if those orders meant they turned their weapons against men and women who had only ever been their friends._

_Cody peered over the edge of the sinkhole and cursed softly. Kenobi was as good as gone, but the clone commander knew better than to think the Jedi would have been so considerate as to die. He knew Obi-Wan too well, after three years spent together, fighting side-by-side. The commander ordered probe droids down into the cavernous depths, but he could already guess what would happen.  
_  
_If the probes came back, then the General was truly dead. If they didn't..._

_Well. If they didn't, that meant Obi-Wan Kenobi had lived to fight another day. Cody mulled over that thought for a moment; he was oddly pleased with it._

_Though, the mar of a job left undone irked him at some obsessive compulsive level. Would it have been too much for the order to have come before he'd given Kenobi back his lightsaber? For just a few moments earlier in the battle, Obi-Wan had lost the grip on his lightsaber and Cody had managed to pick it up, just to turn it over without a second's thought. With his lightsaber in hand, the Jedi was practically invincible._

_Not that Cody really minded, in the end. Inside, deep inside, where only he knew the truth of his thoughts, Cody was glad he'd been able to give General Kenobi a fighting chance._

_His words and programmed mind thought one thing. But his soul - that indefinable sense of self and independence that all clones possessed, despite what others outside their community thought - felt something totally different. His soul screamed in shame and disgust, and it was secretly thankful for preternatural varactyls and Jedi instincts._

_Cody lingered a few more seconds - no probe droids returned. He allowed himself a fierce smile inside of the safety of his helmet._

_General Kenobi had made it. Somehow, someway, his old friend was going to make it to some other day, beyond Utapau._

_"K'oyacyi," Cody murmured as he turned around._

_What was done was done. He couldn't do anything about it right now. Later, he'd revisit the churning emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But, for now, there was still fighting to be done and his men still needed a leader._

_He turned to shout another order at the lumber AT-TE, but stopped dead in his tracks._

"...He's fighting me," a gruff male voice broke into Cody's dream long enough for the hallucinating clone to register what was being said.

"He fought me last time, too. He's got to get this into him. If he doesn't, he'll dehydrate and die. You've got to hold him down, Saa."

"I'm doing my best," the hand gripping Cody's forearm grew tighter and a second hand pressed down to trap his other arm to the bed.

Something heavy settled against his chest. Cody struggled and shouted the only name he could think - "Kenobi! Obi-wan! -"

_"I'm sorry, General!" Cody began to back warily away from the vengeful lightsaber that made a sweeping pass at his head. "General Kenobi! Wait!"_

_The clone tried to throw his hand out frantically in a gesture of peace, but his arm seemed oddly stuck to his side. Fear like Cody had never known before gripped his chest, forcing his heart to pound and his blood to burn. The face that glared back at him from beyond the gently humming green of a lightsaber, was not like any of the many phases of Obi-Wan Kenobi's wise and often-comforting face._

_Blue eyes blazed and mouth set grim behind a dirt-stained beard. Rage roiled from every nuance of the Jedi's posture and Cody felt rooted to the spot, like prey entranced by predator. Still, he tried to plead his case._

_"I didn't fire on you, General - I swear!"  
_  
_"You think that makes a difference, Cody?" Obi-Wan lowered his lightsaber to a slightly more defensive position, but his aggressive stance never wavered._

_His eyes practically sparked, unforgiving._

_"You used to think for yourself, Commander. What's happened that you take orders without a second thought?" Kenobi's words challenged and cut; Cody could only sputter incoherently and the infuriated Jedi in front of him continued on, unmoved. "Were you bred to do this? Is this all you're meant to be? A killer? A machine? Manufactured for the instantaneous execution of a single order?"_

_The lightsaber whizzed threateningly as Kenobi flicked it to the side and then back again, in an agitated movement. Cody tried to shake his head, tried to protest what was being said, but there was no denying the fear that threatened to overtake his mind._

_The fear that maybe, just maybe, General Kenobi was right._

_"You're just a machine, Cody," Obi-Wan's voice softened, but the words whipped across Cody's conscious, leaving a treacherous wound in their wake. "No better than a droid."_

_"N-no!" Cody tried to resist, tried to deny the truth._

_"No?" his old friend laughed, just once - it was a cruel and mirthless sound. "Let me show you."_

_The lightsaber moved before Cody could even blink. A searing pain tore across his elbow and he shouted in pain -_

"Got it. It's in."

Cody drifted back to consciousness just long enough to register a very real pain in the crook of his elbow. He tried to move, but those immovable hands were still holding him down.

"He's still going to fight it, Tay. You'll have to do some Jedi mind trick to get him to calm down."

"In this stage, it's easier said than done. He's still working through his withdrawals."

"Well, you'd better think of some trick quick. I can't hold him down all day. I thought your specialty was the mind."

"It..._was_, Saa."

"Better make it your specialty again. You picked this drunk off the street - if you didn't intend to use your Jedi mojo on him, then you were just as high as he was. Normal stuff's not gonna' work on him. Not at this advanced of an addiction."

"I know -"

"Then do something about it, Tay. Before he knocks me off."

There was a pause in the exchange and then a cool, comforting hand pressed against Cody's forehead. A gentle command accompanied the action -

"K'uur, ad'ika..."

Cody just thrashed, torn between near-consciousness and a hellish memory fabricated by his own guilty soul.

_He stared at his arm - or, at least, where his arm used to be. Kenobi had severed his limb at the elbow and Cody gaped at what he saw there._

_There was no cauterized stump. No smell of cooked flesh. No bone or sinew. Where Kenobi had cut, he'd revealed a reality more traumatizing than all the hells Cody had seen experienced in the war._

_Wires short-circuited from the stump that had been his arm. Sparks flew. The smell of melting metal clogged the air in Cody's nose and threatened to choke him. He was just wires and hardware._

_He was a tinnie._

_Some sort of strangled noise tried to make it past Cody's lips, but all that came out was a sound barely human. Horrified, he looked up at Kenobi, as if begging him to help, to set things right, to tell him it was all just a dream gone horribly, horribly wrong._

_His old friend did none of that._

_He lifted his hand and swung his lightsaber back for a fatal blow. And before Cody lost all consciousness, Kenobi's voice rang damnation into his ears -_

_"You're nothing but a machine, CC-2224. Just a worthless machine."_

* * *

Something cool and soothing finally pulled him out of the first deep sleep he'd had in what seemed like an eon. It took Cody a moment to really focus on what was happening to him; at first, the sensation of something gentle and comforting moving over his clammy skin was nearly enough to lull him back to sleep.

Sleep held onto his consciousness with a greedy grasp and for several long minutes he just drifted in that somewhere-place between awake and asleep. Cody didn't quite dream - at least, he didn't think he did - but he remembered the last time he'd been touched like this and it was a moment, before Cody realized that his thoughts were just that - thoughts. Memories of a time long gone.

Reality filtered through his hazy, half-asleep fog and his eyes snapped open for the first time in what had to be at least a week. Maybe more.

A soft light hit his eyes and forced him to squint as if he were looking straight up into the sun. The light and his apparent sensitivity to it made him groan and he threw an arm across his face. Soft fingers brushed against his rough-shaved face, as if mutely questioning his reaction.

"Good evening, Cody," Tay's voice was just as feather-light as her hands.

Cody was acutely aware of her hands. After touching his face for just a moment, she'd resumed the activity that had dragged him back into the land of the conscious.

She was bathing him and it didn't take a night-breeze from the still-open window to let him know that he was completely bare. Heat rushed into the tips of his ears and he almost instinctively raised his other hand to grab her wrist.

"It's all right, Cody," Tay stopped, but her voice conveyed a gentle attitude of no-nonsense. "I can't see anything."

Cody just made a muttering sound of dissent under his breath. It didn't matter to him if she could see or not. He was embarrassed and he had absolutely no desire for her to keep bathing him. It was humiliating to realize that he needed her to wash him.

She touched the arm he'd thrown over his face with her free hand and he grudgingly lifted it and rested it on the pillow above his head. She didn't say a word, but he knew what she wanted; with great difficulty and embarrassment, he opened his eyes and did his best to look anywhere but at her face. Once again, it didn't matter if she could see him or not - he wasn't sure he could look into her softly heart-shaped face without withering in shame.

For a moment, she set aside her washcloth and placed a bare hand against his forehead. It was a comforting touch, but Cody fervently wished he wasn't so weak; he was at her mercy and humiliated by the fact that he needed someone to perform a function so simple as bathing him. He began to deeply regret the circumstances that had placed him in this predicament to begin with.

"You're not the first patient to react this way," Tay continued to speak to him in a soft, but clinical sort of voice. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Cody was too wrapped up in his humiliation to really process what she'd just said, in its entirety. He did catch 'just think about something mundane', so he fished about frantically in his mind to think of something - anything - that had nothing to do with her hand pressed gently against his face.

He finally settled on self-loathing - that one constant that ate away at his mind and soul. He couldn't stop thinking about Tay touching him, but he quickly remembered why it humiliated him so much.

It wasn't the helplessness of her bathing him. It was the fact that he had no business accepting the kindness of a woman's touch.

Not after Bellassa.

He thought about Jaria - the first and only woman who had ever brought him pleasure. He thought about her hands; they'd been larger than Tay's and rougher. Jaria had been a farmer's daughter, before joining the war effort and her hands had reflected the harshness of her youth. But, Cody had loved them; had loved _her_.

_Jaria..._

She'd been Admiral Yularen's chief intelligence officer and it had been her sharp, no-nonsense intellect that had attracted him to her, more so than her looks. As women went, Jaria had been rather plain - at least, when compared to a Zeltron, or a Twi'lek. But, Cody had been absolutely smitten with her.

Until he'd found out, the hardest way possible, that she really didn't see any difference between him and the rest of his brothers. To Jaria, clones were clones - identical men who, because of their artificial sameness, weren't required the individual commitment of faithfulness.

Jaria and her dishonorable cruelty, had soured Cody on women. It had been a hard thing for him to trust her and when he finally had, he'd fallen in love with her. Cody was a practical man, not given to intangible feelings or emotions. But, he'd set aside all of his rationality for Jaria. And she'd destroyed his hard-given trust with lies and deceit.

He'd never forgotten her. And his interactions with other women merely hardened his heart.

Cody didn't forgive easily. And it had lead to his undoing.

Memories of Jaria had lead to his choices on Bellassa. By then, his conscious was already falling apart underneath the twin bombardments of disillusionment and shame. By then, he'd already participated in the killing of several Jedi - most of whom had been, ironically, women or young girls. By then, Cody had already started wondering if all he was a machine.

Jaria had been from Bellassa. And when he'd come upon that woman, beaten and crying and surrounded by a ring of troopers, it'd been far too easy for him to turn his back on her. It'd been too easy to justify the cruelty meted out to her, with the rationalization that women lied too naturally. It'd been too easy to think that any means were justified, since she'd just tell the truth in the end.

She never "told the truth". She never admitted to Ferus Olin's hiding place, because she'd never known. And she'd died because of it. Because of Cody's inability to forgive and forget.

Words from the depths of Cody's dreams echoed in his ears, haunting him.

_"Just a worthless machine!"_

Cody's tongue finally found the capacity to form speech. He was only able to articulate one word, but it was enough.

"Please!"

Tay lifted her hand away from his body and for several long moments, nothing happened. Cody's breathed heavily and squeezed his eyes shut; he refused to look at her, or look into her face. He didn't deserve kindness. He didn't deserve anything._  
_  
Finally, he felt the sheet at his feet, as it was pulled up over his naked body.

"I think the worst has finally passed. Your fever's finally broke, but your wounds are still healing, so I wouldn't move suddenly if I were you. But, I think with a few day's more of rest, you'll able to get up and start moving about on your own."

There was a long pause before she added -

"I'm sorry if I have only added to your pain."

Cody listened, ashamed, as she gathered up some things. In a few moments, she'd moved toward the front of the room and he heard her stop for a moment.

"Sleep, Cody," her voice was gentle, but there was a command hidden plainly in her tone. "It'll do you some good."

It was strange, really. Cody fought the sense of sleep that suddenly tugged hard on the edges of his consciousness. But, it took only a few minutes from the moment of Tay's gentle command, for him to fall asleep.

And, this time, sleep came without memory or pain.

* * *

"...You're doing this because he reminds you of Del, aren't you?"

Conscious came to Cody for the first time in what seemed like an unbreakable eternity. His head pounded and virtually every fiber of his body screamed in pain, but he hadn't been pulled out of a deep sleep by the ghosts of a pain-filled past.

It was the all-too-familiar rasp of Saa's voice grating against Cody's tender senses, that drew the clone out of his dreamless oblivion.

There was a long pause after Saa's question and Cody became dimly aware of Tay's hands drifting across his naked chest. She was laying something across various parts of his upper anatomy - Cody had felt the vague wet coolness of bacta patches a thousand times before to know what they were without having to look. He could smell the faint antiseptic scent of the patches as well, especially the one that Tay left right above his left pectoral. Sharp pain lingered in the wake of each patch, but it was almost immediately soothed by the healing cure-all; wherever he was, he'd been there long enough for his wounds to heal to a point where the bacta wouldn't be needed but once or twice more.

Cody'd been wounded plenty of times to know that that probably equaled into about two weeks. He'd been in Tay's house for two whole weeks, hovering in some weird place between consciousness and insanity. He remembered one break of true consciousness, when he'd woken up during her bathing him. But even that memory was tainted with near-dreams and cruel remembrance.

This time, he seemed almost instantly alert. He would have mulled over this more, but Tay's voice broke his thoughts apart.

"Yes," her simple response to her companion was even softer than her hands.

"Stang," Saa began, but Tay abruptly cut him off.

"Can you fault me, Saa?" her voice was filled with a raw pain that was harshly out of character with the unruffled peace Cody had come to associate with her.

"Yes, I can," Saa was blunt and unforgiving. "This _clone_ is a drunk and an addict, without a single shred of honor. _He's nothing_ like Del."

"So, you think I'm wasting my time?" something like anger tinged the undercurrent of Tay's words.

"I think you're trying to compensate for your losses. You weren't there to save Del and you couldn't save -"

"Don't you dare," there was real anger in her voice, now.

Her hands left Cody's skin and he heard the scraping of a chair against the floor as she stood up in an indignant rustle of cloth. Cody moaned and moved his head weakly to the side - he couldn't do anything about it, but maybe if he reminded them that he was still there, they'd move their sudden conflict elsewhere.

No such luck. The two adults standing above him seemed caught up in a drama that had very little to do with him.

"You might be my only friend left in this galaxy, Saa," Tay's voice shook - Cody couldn't know without looking if it was with tears or with anger. "But don't you _dare _talk about what I've lost."

There was an oppressive silence for a long, long moment, before Cody heard Tay turn on her heel and walk swiftly out of the room. He'd never heard her feet fall so heavy before; her gate was practically a stomp and the door slid shut behind her with a final sort of punctuation.

That still left Saa in the room. Cody wondered absently what he was doing there, but he wasn't given much time to think. Without warning, a shadow blocked the light behind his eyelids and a heavy hand grabbed a hold of his throat. Thumb and finger pressed dangerously against the pressure points at the side of Cody's throat. The clone's eyes snapped open and he choked, his hands instinctively reaching up to claw at Saa's arm.

The rugged human barkeep seemed less than impressed with Cody's feeble attempt to defend himself. A sneer curled the corners of the man's mouth and he watched Cody struggle for a second that felt like forever.

"I figured you were awake. This is one of the few times where she's too focused on her own pain to notice yours, so allow me the liberty of taking advantage of that," Saa bent over Cody slowly, until their noses were just inches apart.

The bar tender spoke slowly and quietly, so only the two of them could hear what was being said. Cody recognized the uncompromising strength in the man's grip against his throat - Saa was a killer. Just like him.

"You're a worthless _dar'manda_, not even one measly par sec of my brother," Saa's green eyes were sharper than any blade and seemed to cut to the very heart of Cody's shame. "But, if she sees something in you, then as the gods bear witness, I'll make sure you find your soul. But, you'd better listen to me good, _dar'manda_," his grip tightened and Cody could barely breath.

It did, however, assure that Saa had Cody's full and undivided attention.

"Don't you dare waste Tay's time. She's giving you a chance to clean up your pathetic act; I suggest you take it. I won't stand idly by and watch Tay pour her heart out on a piece of Imperial filth. You'd better decide what and who you are, _dar'manda_. 'Cuz if you don't," the murderous look in Saa's eyes left little doubt to the sincerity of his words. "Then I _will_."

Saa let go of Cody's throat as quickly as he'd grabbed a hold of it and straightened his back. For a long second, the two men eyed each other - Cody, while trying to catch his breath. Saa, while looking down a nose that'd healed crooked from one too many fist fights.

"You might share Jango Fett's genes and you might be a man Del would have called 'brother', but you're no Mando."

Cody tried to say something - anything - to his defense. But, Saa cut him off. Probably, because he knew just as well as Cody did, that the clone had nothing truly redeeming to say.

"I'd suggest you find a way to fix that," Saa turned abruptly on his heel and turned his back to Cody as he walked briskly for the door.

He paused at the door and looked over his shoulder, his expression almost eager in its fierceness.

"Though, between you and me, I don't think you've got it in ya'."

The door shhhed shut behind Saa's stalking form and Cody was left to the cool breeze of a late evening. He turned his head and looked toward the open window - he still hadn't quite caught his breath back from Saa's assault.

His head swam, his thoughts confused.

_What was all that about?_

There was some deep significance in what had just passed between him and Saa. But, Cody had no idea what it was. He pondered the puzzle for a moment.

Saa clearly resented Tay's compassion toward him. And, believed that Tay had taken him in, because he reminded her of someone she'd cared about. Someone named 'Del'? Cody mulled over Saa's choice of words.

He'd used Mandalorian words - Mando. Dar'manda. Cody had heard that last word before somewhere; he knew it was Mando'a, but he didn't know what it meant. The clone troopers hadn't embraced their Mandalorian culture the way the Nulls, the ARCs, and the Commandos had. In fact, most troopers shunned the culture they came from, via Jango Fett.

ARC Trooper, Alpha-17, had tried to instill some of the elite clones' Mandalorian pride in Cody and the other commander trainees. Some of it stuck, especially with Bly and Fox. Others, like Gree, hadn't been particularly interested. Cody had tried, but with everything elsed being crammed into their heads, he hadn't really had time to absorb much beyond a few Mando'a curse words and phrases.

And, apparently, Saa disapproved of Cody's lack of cultural identity. Clearly, he'd interacted with troopers before, to know that they didn't care for their Mandalorian heritage. Or, perhaps he just assumed that, as a clone, Cody wouldn't know anyway. There were many Cody had encountered in the years of the War, who just passed the clones off as identical freaks of science, without souls, without minds, without wills, without emotions, and without humanity.

Saa didn't seem much different.

But, he was protective of Tay - that much was evident from his random confrontation. And he disapproved deeply of Cody's sudden occupation of her home and life.

The ex-commander couldn't blame the bar keeper that - if that was what Saa was. Cody's mind was foggy and uncertain, but he'd spoken like a Mandalorian.

He'd have to keep an eye out on Saa. Provide he ever found the energy to sleep with one eye open.

Cody's eyelids drooped. His throat hurt from Saa's pincer-like fingers, but he'd been living in a dull state of pain for almost two weeks, at least. Another layer of pain wasn't about to deter him from the sleep that threatened to steal his consciousness.

Tay was a mystery and so was her past. Her motives were completely foreign to Cody. Maybe he reminded her of someone. Maybe that's why she wasted her time on him. Maybe that's why Saa resented him. Maybe that's why Saa felt the need to challenge a bed-ridden man.

It didn't really matter. Not now, anyway.

Cody was exhausted and he wanted a drink. He longed for the comforting burn of Corellian whiskey, but there wasn't any to be found. And even if there was, he didn't even have the energy to turn his head again, much less to pour himself a drink.

He did turned his head, finally, and looked out toward the evening sky beyond the window. It was painted brightly in shades of crimson and scarlet, and the smell of something burning drifted in from somewhere. It triggered memories made vague by the countless number of times he'd stood and seen the sky lit up with fire and smoke.

It was a fitting metaphor to how he felt. Since Order 66, he'd felt as if he were a planet under siege, his sanity and his sense of self burning in the wake of death, injustice, and strife.

Sleep finally claimed him, as the Anobis sky finally darkened into deeper shades of nighttime blue. And as Cody lost his tenuous grip on consciousness, he silently wished that this time - just this once - his sleep would heal whatever part of him was burning into ash.


	4. Empty Spaces

**Credit:** _I was recently inspired by __**Queen**__ and her brilliant one-shot, __**"The Way of Tea"**__. So, the tea scene in this chapter is totally dedicated to her and her awesomeness. Here's to all the tea drinkers of the world! :) Also, there is reference to the amazing __**Karen Traviss**__ and her Clone Wars novel, __**"No Prisoners"**__. If you haven't read it, I'd recommend it - I borrow quite a few ideas from the book._

* * *

_"I am not a pattern that we follow / The pill that I'm on is a tough one to swallow / I am not a criminal, not a role model / Not a born leader, I'm a tough act to follow / I am not the fortune and the fame / Or the same person telling you to forfeit the game."_

**Linkin Park  
"Empty Spaces"**

* * *

"Good morning, Cody," Tay turned her head briefly toward the sound of his approaching feet.

The sight of her eyeless face still jarred Cody's sense of expectation. The fact that she seemed to have a sense of hearing to rival a Togruta's, was unnerving, too. He was barefoot and had just approached the opening into the kitchen, but she didn't seemed surprised at all to have him appear.

He eyed her for a moment. She'd said that the Miraluka "saw" through the Force. Had she heard him coming? Or, had she sensed him through the intangible, alien Force? Or, had she used both senses to determine his arrival?

The gift made him a little uneasy, but he tried to hide it.

"'Morning," he replied, his voice raspy and gruff from disuse.

"There's some tea, if you'd like," she waved a small, slender-fingered hand toward a tall hot water carafe that was steaming gently in the too-bright morning sun.

"More of a caf man, myself," Cody eyeballed the carafe with a skeptical eye.

Tay's laughter flowed gently through the moderately-sized kitchen; it was a sound as bright and sunny as the late autumn morning.

"I'm afraid you won't find caf in _this_ home," she glanced over her shoulder at him again and a smile teased the corners of her lips. "Even Saa has to bring his own."

"Saa stays here much?" Cody inched toward the nearby counter and looked her over with faint suspicion.

And, no small amount of surprise-mixed curiosity. Just how close of friends _were_ they?

"Saa's been known to stay over, from time to time," Tay shrugged, her voice light.

There was an undercurrent to her words and a tensing of her shoulders that warned Cody that pursuit of that particular topic would be unwelcome. So, he let it drop. Tay seemed to be as much a woman of mystery as he was a man of failure; as he saw it, they both had a right to the ghosts of their pasts, to be left undisturbed by the other.

He leaned his hip against the counter and took a few steadying breaths. He'd woken up to the smell of something good emmenating from the kitchen and he'd been unable to resist the temptation of investigation. It was odd how he'd woken up, really - it'd been sudden and he felt completely refreshed. Except for the soreness of new shiny scars across various parts of his body, Cody nearly felt like he used to in the old days, before the shame of Bellassa.

Still, much movement - no matter how slow or cautious - after nearly three weeks of convalescence, had left Cody breathing a bit hard. His muscles ached from misuse and he felt a little shaky. He tried to look around Tay, to see if he could catch a glimpse of what she was cooking, but she seemed just as determined to keep breakfast hidden from his prying eyes.

"You'll see what it is, soon enough," she seemed to read his thoughts and Cody shifted uncomfortably. "I promise it won't do you in," she flashed him another smile over her shoulder.

Even without eyes, it felt as if she was looking at him. Cody marveled at her ability to move and function like any "normal" sentient - she seemed completely unconcerned with her lack of eyesight. From where he was standing, with her back turned to him, it was hard to even tell she didn't have eyes. She moved smoothly, like someone who didn't even have to think about where to place her hand, or where to shift her feet.

He marveled at her ability, as alien as it was to him.

His stomach grumbled as he stood there. Tay laughed softly and Cody felt a gentle nudge brush against his mind. It startled him for a moment and he turned sharply appraising eyes at the Miraluka's back.

"You should have a cup of tea," she spoke brightly, as if nothing untoward had happened.

He felt another gentle nudge. But, even as some part of him dimly recognized what it was, he was oddly compelled to follow the "suggestion." He looked at the water carafe again and considered for a moment - what did he have to lose? By the looks of things, it would be a few minutes more before breakfast was ready and something hot would certainly help settle his stomach. And, without caf to start his morning off right, what other choices did he have?

He reached for one of the gray mugs that was set neatly upside down on the counter beside the carafe. Cody picked it up, expecting it to feel like the generic duraplastic mugs that he'd drunk a thousand cups of caf from, a thousand times before, in a thousand different galleys. This one, though, felt distinctly different - it was heavier, for one, and the exterior of the mug felt like polished glass in his hand.

He turned it over in his hands, curious. That curiosity was suddenly replaced by a ping of sadness. Perhaps even, loneliness.

Even the familiar things were different in the civilian world. All his life, he'd accompanied his breakfast with a mug of caf. That mug had always been the impersonal gray duraplastic of Republic mass manufacture. Kind of like him, in a way.

Even in the dining hall at the Anobis Mining Company housing complex, Cody had accompanied his breakfast with caf and those same gray duraplastic mugs.

And now, he'd woken up in a place and time that was foreign to him. He was about to have breakfast - for the second time - with a woman he barely knew. Though, the fact that he was having breakfast a woman (known or not) was a marvel in and of itself.

He'd woken up in a soft bed, surrounded by clean sheets and a tastefully decorated room, that was completely devoid of any other life form, armor, weapons, or anything else even remotely martial. He was barefoot - a rare occurrence - and dressed only in a pair of loose black, draw-string pants. He was standing in a kitchen, holding a mug that _wasn't_ duraplastic and about to start his morning drinking something that _wasn't_ caf.

Even the little things where changing.

Cody suddenly felt like his world was unraveling out of control.

He raised a hand, with the intent of running his fingers through his hair in aggravation.

"What the -?" he nearly dropped the mug in surprise.

Where he'd expected to feel long, tangled hair, he felt the all-too-familiar fuzz of a buzz-cut. He hadn't shaved his head in over a year; hadn't cut his hair in at least six months. And now...he had hair like he'd used to have. Back before Bellassa. Back when he was still "_Commander _Cody."

"Is something wrong?" Tay moved, but Cody wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing.

He was too wrapped up in trying to decide if he was flummoxed or infuriated.

"Cody?" Tay prompted again and Cody remembered that she couldn't see what was causing him so much distress.

"My hair!" he yelped, as he ran his hand over and over the top of his shaved pate.

"Oh," something of a blush arched over Tay's nose; if Cody hadn't been so indignant, he'd have thought it rather cute. "You had lice."

It took a moment for Cody to register that. Once he did, his hand fell away from his head and he eyed her almost ruefully.

"Lice?" he repeated and almost immediately felt like kicking himself for sounding so stupid. "Guess that explains why my scalp itched so much," he added, feeling rather lame.

"I dyed your hair, too, before I cut it," Tay admitted as she tucked her chin in toward her chest, almost shy. "Don't worry," she seemed to sense the spike of alarm that raised Cody's eyebrows. "I only used black dye - nothing exotic. But dye will kill _lice and_ eggs. I cut your hair after that and I've kept it shaved while you've been unconscious. I figured once you were back on your feet, you could let it grow back to your own choosing."

"Oh," was all Cody could think of for a moment.

Then he added, as an awkward afterthought, "Thanks."

"Your welcome," Tay flashed him a bright smile that erased all the fine worry lines along her face.

She looked years younger when she smiled; the simple action made her seem "fresh", somehow. As if the clock had rewound and given him a glimpse of what she might have been like before the cares of the world started etching their mark across her features.

Cody looked away from the brilliance of that smile. It made her beautiful and her beauty made him feel like scum.

"Breakfast is ready, I think," she turned back toward the range, where something had sizzled and popped during their exchange.

Cody's stomach growled, loud enough for both of them to hear. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hungry; the stims usually did a pretty good job of curbing his appetite, so he'd rarely been hungry in the last half of a year. Tay laughed and Cody felt another flash of shame in the wake of her brilliance.

"I'd almost forgotten how endlessly hungry you troopers are," she began brightly, but Cody cut her off.

He felt bad for his rudeness, but he couldn't have her calling her that.

"I haven't been a trooper for a long time, ma'am," his voice was rough and he looked away from her.

It didn't matter that she had her back turned toward him. He could barely stand being in the radiance of her presence, much less look at her.

He spoke to the counter and the water carafe on it.

"I don't deserve the title. Not anymore."

He refused to look at her, so if she had any sort reaction, he missed it. When she spoke, though, her voice was softer and something like emptiness echoed in her tone.

"On second thought, Cody, why don't you go ahead and grab a seat on the patio? I'll bring the food and tea along in a moment."

"Yes ma'am," Cody turned to leave.

He paused and thought briefly about looking at her - the tone behind her words bothered him, though he couldn't explain why. He wondered if she was okay with what he had said; it certainly hadn't sounded so and he wanted to apologize. But, the words stayed stuck in his throat and he kept his face fixed stubbornly forward. Then, without further hesitation, he left the kitchen for the quiet solace of the open-air veranda.

* * *

Nothing was said, at first. Instead, Cody sat on the same chair he'd sat on a month or so before, with his hands placed awkwardly on his knees. He'd have crossed his arms over his chest, but the wounds there were still tender from where the bacta had finally managed to knit new skin together.

He watched as she delicately enacted a ritual that seemed both elegant and unconscious.

First, she set down one of the strange, glass-like mugs in front of him and one in front of her. Then, she picked up a red teapot that looked to be made of the same glazed stuff and poured piping hot water into both of their mugs. After that, she opened a small round tin that was sitting in the middle of the patio table; as soon as she opened it, a smell like rich earth and dark leaves tickled his nose.

Cody leaned forward, curious, and spotted the loose tea packed lightly into the tin. The leaves were shriveled and dried to a medium sort of length, and were blacker than the special matte armor he'd heard about the ARCs and the Commandos using during the war.

The smell wafting up from the tin was strong - almost like caf, except lighter in their aromatic signature. She pinched the leaves between a dainty forefinger and thumb and carefully stuffed them into the bottom half of a small, holed metal ball. With deliberate movements, she screwed the top and bottom of the ball together and then dangled it gently into the hot water inside of his mug. The water was almost instantly stained a smoky brown and as she draped the chain attached to the top of the ball over the edge of the mug, the water turned progressively darker.

She did the same to her cup and then directed her attention almost immediately to the plate of thinly-sliced nerf strips between them.

Cody was still enthralled by the tea. He took the chain between his fingers - it felt almost too delicate for his clumsy hands - and bobbed the little tea-filled ball up and down inside of his water. The contents of his mug grew darker and darker; the smell that drifted up with the steam also became increasingly sharp and earthy.

"What is this?" he wondered, his interest piqued.

He'd never seen tea like this before. He'd seen Obi-Wan drink tea plenty of times, but it had lighter than this. Once, he'd even taken a look into the General's cup - his tea had tainted the water a faint green, not black like Tay's.

_Obi-Wan..._

He'd never tried the General's tea - it had always seemed too elegant for a fighting man like himself. But, Cody associated the beverage with the austere Jedi. He sighed and let go of the little chain; it chinked faintly against the side of the mug and he stared into the depths of the strangely dark tea, as if searching for a memory.

"It's called Alderaan Black. Not as elegant as Nabooian Green, but it's almost as good as caf for a morning bracer," Tay's gentle answer to his almost-forgotten question, rousted Cody out of his reverie.

"Ah," he nodded absently and debated about whether or not he wanted to drink it.

It seemed too rude, to refuse anything Tay offered him, so he picked up the mug; it felt lost inside of his large hands. Whatever it was made out of, though, insulated the worst of the heat from his skin - much better than any Republican Army duraplastic mug, that was certain. He blew the steam off of the top of the water and took a cautious sip.

It was just the barest of tastes, but it burst in a dark, mysteriously complex flavor against his tongue. She was right - it was almost as good as caf and just as bracing.

"Interesting," he conceded as he set the mug back down on the table.

He eyed it for a moment, before taking a look at what else made up their breakfast. There were thin nerf strips, pan fried until they were curled and crispy - that, Cody decided, was what had smelled good enough to tempt him out of bed. There was jar of honey and a small dish of hard-boiled Quor'sav eggs, and beside the eggs there was a plate stacked high with Fanjo pancakes. Beside the pancakes resided another small jar filled with something Cody guessed was a syrup.

He piled his plate high. The syrup proved a bit of a trick, at first, since Cody wasn't sure what it was. He glanced at Tay before he remembered she couldn't see. Emboldened by the fact that her headband was still firmly in place and that she seemed quite engrossed in her own plate of food, Cody quickly stuck a finger into the syrup and then into his mouth.

He missed the small, bemused smile that crossed Tay's face.

A thick, delicious, and thoroughly addicting sweetness coated his mouth. Cody licked his finger clean without a second thought and peered into the syrup jar with a mixture of unfettered delight and uncertainty.

"What _is_ this?" he demanded almost instinctively.

He had no idea what it was, but _It_ was _good_. He was tempted to open his mouth and pour the contents of the syrup jar down his throat.

"It's _Uj'jayl _syrup, _di'kut_," Saa's caustic voice broke across the peaceful morning scene.

Startled, Cody whipped his head around and spotted Saa, who was leaning against the porch door frame, his arms crossed judgmentally across his narrow chest. Sharp green eyes met suspicious brown eyes and the two men eyeballed each other from across the safety of several feet.

The edges of Saa's mouth curled up into a condescending smirk.

"If you weren't such a blithering _dar'manda_, you'd know what that was without even having to look at it," the contemptuous barkeeper snorted.

"Saa, is that kind of language really necessary?" Tay had titled her head up toward the early morning sun, as if supplicating it for some measure of tranquility.

"Just put it on your pancakes, man," Saa glanced at Tay and checked the tone of his voice; he slid a look toward Cody and the clone almost thought he saw something of a genuine smile in the other man's eyes. "And thank the gods you didn't die without knowing what _Uj'jayl_ is."

Cody pressed his lips into a thin line, but did as Saa suggested. For several minutes, he dedicated himself to two things and two glorious things only - Fanjo pancakes and _Uj'jayl_ syrup.

Cody had no clue who Jango Fett was. But, he did know one thing for certain.

The man had had a considerable sweet tooth. And it had _definitely_ been passed down in the genes.

* * *

When Cody finally came up for air - after he'd polished off most of the Fanjo pancakes and _all_ of the _Uj'jayl_ - he found Saa and Tay deep in a conversation of their own. They were talking rapidly in lower tones, in what sounded quite a lot like Mando'a. After catching "_di'kut_" and "_dar'manda_" a few times from Saa's end of the conversation, Cody concluded definitively that they were, indeed, discoursing in Mando'a and that the subject of discussion was more than likely _him_.

He cleared his throat self-consciously and shifted in his seat. He remembered only too well what had happened last time Tay and Saa had argued in front of him; Cody glanced at Saa and decided that he really didn't feel like ending up at the wrong end of the barkeeper's irritability again.

This time, though, Cody's movement seemed to have caught Tay's attention and she brought the conversation to a premature end with the raising of her hand.

"Let's not be rude, Saa," she chided softly. "I'm sorry, Cody - thanks to some of the events of the past, Saa and I have gotten into the habit of talking in Mando'a. Often without the consideration of friendly ears nearby."

"Usually because there's never _been_ 'friendly' ears nearby," Saa growled. "Not since Or-"

He seemed to have caught himself, though, and snapped his mouth shut. The damage was done, though - Cody's mind rapidly put everything together and he glanced at Tay in surprise.

She was Jedi?

He blinked.

_A Jedi?_

"What Saa means to say, is that we haven't kept the best of company in the past," Tay smoothly transitioned the conversation away from dangerous waters.

Cody's mind still reeled.

"So, please excuse us our momentary lapse," Tay lifted her tea cup at Cody in a conciliatory salute. "We didn't mean to exclude you."

Saa snorted something under his breath that sounded quite a bit like "speak for yourself", but Tay held Cody's attention and they both ignored him.

"First, we were discussing what Saa was doing here," she turned her face to the side and quirked her lips in an expression of half-hearted annoyance. "It seems he let himself in without an invitation. _Again_."

"I told you," Saa shrugged his shoulders, and seemed suddenly torn between embarrassment and defiance. "I came by to check on you. Don't give me a key to the place, if you don't want me wandering in unannounced."

It sounded like an old argument - an almost playful quarrel between old friends. Cody eyed Saa closely - the man was dressed in nondescript street clothes and appeared to be nothing more than the innocuous barkeeper he'd always known Saa to be. The set of the man's shoulders and the watchful wariness of his eyes gave a clue to something else. Cody was surprised he'd never spotted it before, but he supposed that it had been the influence of the alcohol that kept him from seeing what Saa really was.

Cody was almost willing to bet every stim high he'd ever had, that Saa was a merc. And a _Mandalorian_ merc, at that.

His eyes flickered back to Tay. She seemed to be the uninteresting herb seller that she claimed to be. But, she'd nursed a badly injured man back to near-complete health. She seemed to have an innate understanding of the Force that far surpassed any non-initiate's understanding - the excuse of her being "just a Miraluka" seemed too pat when considered with her uncanny ability to sense things. She'd influenced his mind, too; of that, Cody was almost certain, from the tell-tale nudges he'd felt in the kitchen.

He'd be almost be willing to bet every bottle of Corellian whiskey he'd ever downed, that she was a Jedi.

A Mandalorian mercenary and an escaped Jedi.

His choice of company just seemed to get better and better. Cody sighed and leaned back in his chair.

A Mandalorian mercenary and an escaped Jedi had mostly assuredly saved his life.

_Go figure_.

"...We were discussing what to do with you, now that you're feeling better," Cody tuned back into what was Tay was saying, just in time.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, even though she couldn't see, and then glanced at Saa, as if hoping to catch some sort of clue there. Saa stared back, face impassive. Cody looked back at Tay; her face seemed almost hopeful.

"What do you mean?" he finally asked, since it seemed as if they were both waiting for him to say something.

A strange, guarded sort of expression crossed Tay's face, before she spoke again. When she did, she seemed almost uncertain of her words, as if she were afraid of the response she might receive.

"I want to extend an invitation to you, to stay here, if you like," she looked as if she were about to say more, but then she blushed, and looked down into her tea mug.

For a second, Cody was absolutely silent. Loathing crawled up into his throat, choking his words with sharp claws and fierce teeth, like some sort of rampant zillo beast let loose from his soul.

He wanted to suddenly shout, to suddenly rave.  
_  
"Do you know what I am?" _he wanted to scream. _"Do you know what I've done?"_

In a fierce rush, he wanted to tell her. Wanted to confess Bellassa. Wanted to pour his heart and his secrets out across her peaceful breakfast table. For just a split second, he wanted to tell her about General Kenobi - about how he, the loyal Commander Cody, ordered the unjust almost-death of a man _who had done nothing_.

The Chancellor had claimed the Jedi were traitors. Cody wanted to suddenly confess what he'd felt since that day at Utupau - that the Chancellor had it all wrong. The Jedi weren't the traitors. _He_ was. His _brothers_ were. They _all_ were.

He wanted to tell her about Waxer. About how he'd died, beheaded by a Jedi blade. About how Cody and the rest of the squad had killed an old man and a young girl, execution style. About how he'd killed a score just like them - undefended, unprotected, unheard.

He wanted to scream at her - _"Do you know what you're offering?"  
_  
Asylum. She offered asylum and redemption, for a man who deserved neither. She wanted to save him, he could tell. Further proof that she was a Jedi, at least before Order 66. He'd never known a Jedi - even Anakin Skywalker - who didn't value life. Even a life as far gone as his.

He was too far gone for redemption. He'd find it in death, perhaps. Not here. Not with a Jedi who didn't know what he'd done.

_Scratch that_, Cody thought as he finally lifted his head and dared to look at Tay's delicate face. _She knows. If she's Jedi...she knows._

She'd had to outrun men like him. He glanced at Saa. Cody was almost willing to bet that the only reason she was sitting at this little table, offering him redemption, was because of the man scowling at his left.

The thought was horrifying. Cody suddenly wallowed in a deep disgust aimed directly at himself. If she was truly Jedi, then she was still living in the constant fear of discovery. The Empire was only a year old and his brothers were still busy scouring the galaxy for the Jedi who'd escaped the initial Purging.

She was still running, in her own way. And she was still offering him a chance to redeem himself.

Shame settled thick across Cody's shoulders.

He didn't deserve her grace.

"Cody?" Tay's voice almost shook and the quiver echoing in his name dragged his face up to meet hers.

Her brows were knit together in concern and she suddenly reached out a hand across the table and brushed his fingers, which were still wrapped around the cooling surface of his own tea mug. Cody practically flinched under her feather-light touch.

_I don't deserve this_, he thought. _Why can't she see that I don't deserve this?_

He didn't say that, though. Instead, he took a deep breath and glanced over at Saa. The look on the mercenary's face was next-door to murderous.

Cody's memory flashed back to just a handful of days before.

_"Don't you dare waste Tay's time. She's giving you a chance to clean up your pathetic act; I suggest you take it. I won't stand idly by and watch Tay pour her heart out on a piece of Imperial filth. You'd better decide what and who you are, dar'manda. 'Cuz if you don't, then I will."_

Cody wasn't about to tangle with a threat like that. At the same time, he didn't want to be beholden to Tay anymore than he already was. So, the clone commander tried to find a diplomatic answer that would appease all parties concerned.

At least, for the time being.

"I'd like more time to consider your offer, ma'am," Cody finally spoke; his words were a bit stiff, but they were as sincere as he could make them, considering. "I think it'll be a few more days before I'd be able to really strike out on my own. If it's all right with you, I'd like to take that time to consider an appropriate answer. I appreciate your offer, I truly do," and Cody did; he meant it with what of his heart he felt he had left. "But, I don't want to give your generosity the discourtesy of a quick answer, if you know what I mean."

Silence hung heavy for a few long seconds and Cody had to fight the urge to squirm. He didn't dare look at Tay; instead, he ducked his head and risked a side-long glance at Saa.

The barkeeper was leaning back in his chair, his arms firmly crossed over his chest. His eyes were narrowed and he was staring Cody down without blinking. It was almost as if he could see through the clone's weak attempt at stalling the inevitable. As the silence dragged on, Cody tried not to think; if Tay was, in fact, Jedi, then she'd be able to read his thoughts. Or, maybe, just sense them. Cody had never quite been sure how that all worked; General Kenobi had tried to explain it many times, but the Force was an entity entirely beyond Cody's comprehension.

Regardless, Cody didn't want Tay to be hurt by any ulterior intentions she might feel in his thoughts or words. So, he sat silently and tried to keep his mind neutral, until she finally spoke.

"I think that's a wise answer," her soft voice finally broke across the everyday, background hum of the city surrounding them.

She nodded, as if assuring herself of her own decision.

"I think that's a very wise answer, Cody," she repeated, her voice growing softer. "Please take all the time you need in making your final answer. I wouldn't want you to stay here against your will," she tilted her head to the side and Cody dared to look into her compassionate face. "Nor would I want you stay here without first choosing whether or not you truly wanted to heal."

Her words, though gentle and well-meant, cut hard against Cody's mangled conscious. Had she sensed something of his true intentions in his words or thoughts, after all? He hung his head and refused to look at her again.

"Thank you," he said, quietly, and then turned his head to look out over the busy city beyond them.

He couldn't bear to look at Tay. If he did, Cody half-suspected that he'd cry for forgiveness. For forgiveness about _everything_ - even those things he had no right asking forgiveness for. For Bellassa, for Waxer, for General Kenobi.

She couldn't absolve him of those guilts. And those who could, were either dead or long-since missing.

Cody leaned back in his chair and wrapped himself up in his thoughts. After a moment or two, Tay turned to Saa and started talking to him about mundane things; this time, their conversation stayed in Basic, or at least, it did so far as Cody could tell, since he wasn't even half-listening to either of them.

He was full from an excellent breakfast and he was well-rested for the first time in at least a year. He was clean - literally - and also figuratively; he hadn't touched alcohol or stims for at least two weeks.

And yet, Cody felt overwhelmingly _empty_. He didn't know how else to describe the hollow, brittle feeling he felt inside of him, as he looked out over their small slice of the capitol city. Cody floundered in the wake of an awful _emptiness_ after the rush of raw emotions he'd felt in response to Tay's simple invitation.

And, he craved stims and whiskey. Or, something.

_Anything_, to make him forget.

Anything to chase away the empty space that suddenly yawned where his heart had once been.

* * *

"Here's some clean clothes," Tay's voice accompanied an almost shy little knock on the wall beside Cody's open bedroom door.

He glanced over his shoulder, startled at first. He'd been lost in his thoughts and had almost forgotten where he was.

"Um...thank you," the words felt clumsy on his tongue.

Cody turned away from the window, but then stopped awkwardly. Tay practically glided into the room, her arms full of more clothes than Cody was sure he'd ever need. He'd only ever really had one bodysuit at a time and _maybe_ a set of fatigues if the situation called for them. When he'd deserted to Anobis, he'd only bought two sets of shirts and pants; he'd lived frugally, not really concerning himself much in the way of extra clothes.

All of his money had gone to feed his addictions, anyway.

"This might be more than you need," Tay seemed to sense his thoughts again, with freakish accuracy.

Cody shifted uncomfortably.

"But, I'd rather you have too many choices than not enough," she turned to smile softly at him, before setting the jumble of clothes on the edge of his bed.

There was something almost sad about her smile. Cody stood where he was, but he was suddenly gripped with a desire to reach out and touch her. There was something suddenly fragile about her.

He suddenly realized that he wasn't the only one who had empty spaces in their soul.

"They should all fit you," Tay continued quietly.

She bowed her head, as if looking toward the clothes; a hand drifted slowly across the top-most shirt and her delicate fingers paused to fiddle with a button. Drawn by curiosity, Cody finally found motion and he crossed the room in silence to stand next to her.

He recognized, almost immediately, the faded and patched red fatigues laying at the top of the pile.

"That's a GAR issued uniform!" he exclaimed in impulsive surprise.

His hand brushed against Tay's as he reflexively reached out to pick up the shirt she'd been caressing. Cody felt his cheeks flush warm as his fingers bumped clumsily against hers; she didn't withdraw at first, but lingered, their hands touching side-by-side.

She grew strangely still, for a moment. It was almost as if she was trying to sense something through their simple contact.

"Where did you get this?" Cody broke the moment in more gentle tone of voice, as he pulled the shirt up toward the light and moved his hand away from Tay's.

He was so absorbed in the novelty of finding fatigues in an unexpected place, that he almost didn't register her reaction. There was a long, empty pause, before she took a step back and moved as if to leave the room.

The answer hit him, hard, as if she'd suddenly projected the answer into his mind.

"Del," Cody lowered the shirt and turned to look at Tay. "Del was..." he paused.

He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to utter the word, _"clone"_. He wasn't sure he wanted to face the reality that suddenly threatened to overwhelm him.

"He was GAR, wasn't he?"

Cody wasn't sure what he expected - tears, maybe? Sorrow? Legendary "female hysterics"? But, Tay did none of that.

She simply stood, as if rooted to the spot. Her face seemed suddenly tired - so very, very tired and careworn.

"No."

At first, Cody thought that that was all she was going to say on the matter and he frowned slightly in confusion. But, before he could ask more clarifying questions, the petite Miraluka turned slowly around and started walking toward the door.

The emptiness of her pain seemed to match Cody's, ache for ache.

If it hadn't been for Bellassa...if it hadn't been for his multitude of sins...he'd have reached out and taken her by the shoulder. He'd have stopped her from leaving and he would have held her. The desire to comfort and protect was as instinctual to who he was, as firing a rifle.

It unsettled him.

"Del was ARC," Tay stopped at the door and partially turned back toward Cody.

She expression was sharp and painful, echoing all of the loss that Cody felt in his own heart. She seemed gripped by a sudden need to say something - anything - and Cody listened, transfixed.

"To most, he was ARC Captain Alpha-04. He called himself 'Delta', or 'Del', for short. He was a clone, like you," she turned to leave and her voice followed her gently out the door.

Her next words stunned Cody and rooted him mutely to the floor.

"But, he was more than that, to me. He was my husband."

* * *

_"But, he was more than that, to me. He was my husband."_

Her words haunted Cody, echoing across his conscious like ghosts.

He didn't know what to make of her words. But what she had said, in that one short sentence, conveyed a greater emptiness than even he could comprehend. Titles like "wife" and "husband" and the roles that came attached to them, were things of myth among the clones of the Republic Army. They were attachments and commitments that many of them coveted in the secret places of their being - at least, Cody had. He couldn't speak for his brothers, but he'd seen the way Rex would look at Ahsoka, or the subtle body language between Gree and Commander Barriss. There were others who'd wanted more out of their lives, than death and carnage.

And _orders_.

Cody stood and stared at the city beyond his bedroom window. He propped his arm up against the wall and then rested his forehead against his forearm. He put a hand to the glass and closed his fingers in a fist; the window captured autumn's cold against his skin.

He couldn't even begin to fathom the depth of Tay's loss. But, perhaps it wasn't too different from his.

Maybe, he and Tay weren't so different after all. They were both wrung empty, drained dry by the cruelties of a galaxy gone mad.

Tay's words played over and over in his mind. Something was nagging at him - something important.

_Husband... _By her own words, she'd been _married_ to Del, this ARC Captain Alpha-04.

Did that mean Tay wasn't a Jedi? None of the Jedi that Cody had ever encountered, were allowed the finality of an attachment like marriage. They weren't even allowed passing attachment. Or anything that might even possibly be misconstrued _as_ an attachment.

Kenobi had always been pretty clear about that sticking point, at least. And, oddly enough, Cody had always kind of understood what was meant by it.

Clones weren't allowed attachments, either. Perhaps not on a philosophical or dogmatic level, like the Jedi. But, the very nature and purpose a clone, didn't lend him to the attachments of an ordinary man.

In the blood and duty of war, there wasn't much time nor opportunity for attachments. Not healthy or true ones, at least. Not in Cody's experience.

He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead against his arm in a mild expression of his mental turmoil.

_Husband..._

Maybe Tay wasn't a Jedi. Maybe she'd been telling the whole truth, all along. Maybe, she was just a Miraluka. And maybe all the Jedi-like things he thought she'd done, were just products of being part of a race that depended on the Force for even the most basic of functions necessary to survive.

Though, Cody remembered something Rex had told him once. About something he'd learned while temporarily reassigned behind the "front lines" on a respite-that-quickly-turned-into-_not_-a-respite.

Cody remembered the conversation as if it were yesterday. They'd been sitting in the galley, eating breakfast. Cody remembered that morning, that he'd forgone the actual ritual of eating, since nothing on the breakfast line had looked particularly appetizing. He had settled for his perpetual cup of strong, straight black caf and remembered watching with some amusement as Rex had attacked his piled-high plate with considerable vigor.

Rex had always had the stomach of an bantha. And the appetite of one, too.

Cody also remembered how edgy Rex had been after returning to the _Resolute_. The two had been close friends since their days in ARC commander training, so after the obligatory "mission report" had been delivered, Cody had bluntly cut through to the chase.

_"So, something's happened that you're not telling me."_

_"Whatcha' mean?" _Rex had tried not to look evasive, but had failed.

He'd always had such an open face. If one knew what to look for, Rex had always been an easy one to read.

_"I mean that something happened that's got you, General Skywalker, and Commander Ahsoka pretty rattled," _Cody had put his elbows on the table and leaned in toward Rex. _"And, not to be indelicate, but I think it doesn't have anything to do with losing troops."_

Rex had shifted uncomfortably and had even poked at the lumpy mass they all assumed were supposed to be scrambled eggs. Finally, after considerable hemming and hawing, he'd admitted an uncomfortable truth uncovered about the Jedi.

Not all Jedi were alike.

During his time on the _Leveler_, Rex - along with General Skywalker and Commander Ahsoka - had encountered a faction of the Jedi Order. A faction that didn't believe in giving up attachments, but rather, encouraged them. _Freely_.

Even, _marriage_.

It was rare, but there was still the chance that - despite her startling revelation - Tay was one of those "other Jedi". And, who was to say that it was Order 66 that stopped her from being a "normal" Jedi? Maybe, she'd given up the Jedi ways long before the Order, so that she could marry her ARC captain. Either way...

There was still substantial evidence, at least to Cody, that she was more than just a simple Miraluka herbalist. He wondered, absently, why it was so suddenly important to him to know if she was a Jedi or not.

If she wasn't a Jedi, maybe he'd be able to find it in himself to accept her kindness.

He tapped the cool glass absently with his fist, as he stared out at nothing in particular. Lights flashed across his face as speeders and other transports flashed by; the glaring lights of the city seemed to make Anobis' moon washed out by comparison.

And if she was a Jedi - well... Cody didn't even want to think it, but a darker part of his soul recognized an opportunity to go rogue. Maybe there wasn't any honor in it, but it'd be a better life than mining in some Mid-Rim backwater and killing himself slowly on stims and alcohol.

He could turn Tay in, if she was Jedi. Cody'd stayed in the Imperial Army long enough to hear the rumors. There were clones who hadn't so much "deserted" as "gone rogue", trading in their uniforms for a bounty hunter's life. He'd even dealt with a few of his brothers who had chosen to do that - he remembered, only too clearly, an incident that happened shortly after Waxer's death.

A rogue clone by the name of Jecks had showed up on ship briefly, just long enough to turn over a single dead body. It'd been a young Jedi, perhaps just old enough to have taken his Trials for Knighthood. Cody had taken custody of the Mal Calamarian body and had been the one to pay Jecks the bounty owed. It was less money to bring in a dead body, but Jecks had explained the lack of life with a casual, "he wouldn't come quietly."

The coldness of those words had stuck with Cody and had stained another part of his soul an empty black.

Could he do that? Could he continue to murder in cold blood? Could he truly look Tay in the face and just hand her over to her death, in exchange for calloused credits?

He remembered the softness of her hands as she had bathed him.

No, Jedi or not, Cody would never be able to bring himself to turn her in. He'd done enough evil in the galaxy; if he took another life, it'd be his own. Not Tay's.

All the same, he sincerely hoped that she wasn't a Jedi. He didn't think he could bear her sadness, or her grace, or her radiance, if she was.

And so, like he'd learned to do with so many other things, Cody decided to ignore the metaphorical bantha in the room. Maybe Tay was a Jedi. Maybe she wasn't. Maybe she'd been one before Order 66. Maybe she'd given it up for her clone husband.

Maybe, the truth didn't matter. He was better off believing half-truths and lies.

She was just a Miraluka herbalist.

It was easier to deal with her, that way.

* * *

Cody tried to avoid Tay, but it was hard to do in such a small apartment. By day two of his non-convalescent freedom, he was starting to feel restless and it was a challenge to try and figure out what to do with himself. He spent a lot of time on the patio, soaking up sun and fresh air. Both had been precious commodities in the mines and his skin had grown pale from lack of contact with the "top-side", daylight world.

He drank a lot of tea as he sat outside and mulled over his thoughts. Tay seemed to sense his need to be alone and let him be for the most part. Cody watched her through the clear patio doors as she moved about in the living room and the kitchen. But, for the most part, he said very little to her and kept to himself.

He did ask her about the two weeks he was bed-ridden. He barely remembered the fight that had lead to his injuries, but Tay quickly filled in the gaps in his memory.

_"You picked a fight with one of Saa's bouncers,"_ she'd paused and titled her head to the side, as she was want to do when curious about something. _"I don't suppose you remember why?"_

_"No," _Cody had just shrugged. _"Probably the whiskey, more than anything else."_

He had then remembered something that had bothered him. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he'd looked Tay up and down.

_"How'd you find me so quickly?"_

She had blushed, the bridge of her nose and her cheeks flushing a pretty red.

_"I'd been keeping an eye on you, from a distance. I figured you'd need my help again, but I didn't want to intrude. So, I just stayed on the sidelines until it was clear that you'd gotten yourself into a mess you couldn't fix."_

He'd mulled on those words for a while and wondered what it was about him that had caught her interest. He had thought she'd abandoned him - given him a glimpse of redemption, just to snatch it away from him. But, in reality, she'd been hovering about where he couldn't see her, keeping a watch on him, "just in case."

It was an oddly Jedi thing to do. She seemed bound and determined to save him...but not at the cost of his own independence. She hadn't wanted to "intrude", even though he had so desperately needed someone to haul him forcibly from his squalor.

She confused him, her motives seemingly obscure.

He had sustained a substantial number of near-critical wounds from his randomly-picked fight. But, the worst hadn't come from the edge of a Nikto's viroblade.

_"It was a pretty touch-and-go for a while,"_ Tay told him.

She had looked him right in the face as she spoke, her tone gentle, but her words edged in steel.

_"You'd gotten a hold of some bad stims, I think. One of your puncture wounds had gotten badly infected and your blood was tainted. Even under my care, it got worse before it got better. I don't think you realize how very close you came to dying, Cody."_

His addiction had nearly killed him. And, she'd been the one to pull him back from the edge of death, knowing all the while what he was and what he had done to himself.

Shame didn't even come close to describing how filthy Cody felt in front of her.

Worst of all, no matter how close he'd come to death, no matter how much he loathed himself...

He still craved the rush he felt when the stims hit his bloodstream. He still missed the dull, burning comfort of Corellian whiskey.

He sat in Tay's quiet home, in her husband's clothes, ate her good food, and _craved_.

Cody was quite certain that he was the lowest form of sentient life in the galaxy.

Finally, he couldn't take it any more.

Late afternoon, on the third day, Tay popped her head out onto the patio and let him know that she was going to be gone for most of the evening. One of her contractors wanted to conduct business over dinner, so he was free to do what he wanted about the house while she was gone. She even asked him - sweetly - if he would mind "keeping an eye on things."

Cody hadn't quite found it in himself to look at her. It hadn't helped that she was dressed in something soft, pale blue, and form-fitting, that left quite a lot of skin and imagination bare to baser thoughts.

He agreed to "watch things" and she'd left in short order. And then, he decided that enough was enough.

It was time to stop pretending that maybe he could find redemption from her hand. It was time to stop hoping for what _he didn't_ have and for what he'd _never_ have. It was time to stop thinking that maybe he was still a better man.

He was a clone in disgrace. A murderer with far too much blood on his hands. An alcoholic and a stim addict.

It was too much to deal with her. Too much to think that maybe she was a Jedi. Too much to accept that she was willing to help him, despite what he was, despite what she knew he had done.

Cody had paused at the door and looked behind him, at the quiet, peaceful home. He rubbed a hand over his thighs - over the wounds inflicted by his addiction that had finally started to heal - and _craved_.

He craved release from his thoughts. From his pain. From his black, empty nothingness.

He took only the clothes on his back and slipped out of the house, making sure the door locked firmly behind him. Try as he might, though, he couldn't get Tay out of his mind as he hunched his shoulders against the autumn wind and started making his way down toward the lower streets, where he knew he'd find the stims and the whiskey again.

She'd tried to fill him up with something good, with something wholesome. But, he was just too empty, too _void_.

So, he left her empty spaces behind him and retreated to his own.


	5. When They Come For Me

**Credits:** _To __**Matt**__ and __**Joseph**__, who helped me work out the mechanics of my fight scene. There's nothing like watching an Air Force veteran and a Marine Corps veteran shadow box each other in the middle of a college study room. ROFL I'm still not 100% I got the moves right, but it was fun watching two full grown men pretend to be Cody and Jecks. ^.^ A shout out goes to __**Queen**__, as well - more tea references!_

* * *

_"I came in the ring like a dog on a chain / And I found out the underbelly is sicker than it seems / And it seems ugly, but it can get worse / Cos' even a blueprint is a gift and a curse / Cos' once you have the theory of how the thing works / Everybody wants the next thing to be just like the first."_

**Linkin Park  
"When They Come For Me"**

* * *

Cody never expected to hear that sound again.

But, it was unmistakable and his reaction to it was instantaneous.

The faint, distinctive buzz of a lightsaber filled the near-deserted city side street. An electric hum corresponded with flickering pale purple light that illuminated the mouth of an alley up ahead.

Cody faltered for just a moment. It would be the easiest thing in the world to just put his head down and hurry past. It didn't concern him.

A blaster shot tore the silent night air in half and a cry of pain was followed by a voice that Cody couldn't ignore.

"Saa...!"

Tay's voice triggered what the sound of her lightsaber couldn't. Conscious thought shut down for Cody and he reacted on sheer, programmed instinct.

It was instinct that predated Order 66 by a long-shot. It was an instinct drilled into him at Kamino. An instinct he didn't have to ignore and deny at the expense of another, "higher" order.

He forgot about the stims in his pocket. He forgot about whiskey or his intentions of drinking himself into a blind stupor. He forgot about trying to find another job with the mining company in the morning. Or, about what he'd do now that he'd put Tay and her apartment behind him.

It seemed that he hadn't put her that far behind him, after all. And Cody didn't even register the irony of the situation.

He just lengthened his stride and trotted as quickly as he could to the mouth of the alleyway.

Nothing else mattered to him anymore. Just obedience to an order that he'd forgotten in the bloodshed after Order 66 - the order he'd given himself, to protect _his_ Jedi at all possible costs.

He wasn't sure at what point he'd started thinking of Tay as "his Jedi." It only mattered that he had.

It took just mere seconds - a flash in time, really - to process the tableau unfolding in the small, dark alleyway.

Tay stood with her back pressed against a durasteel wall; the alleyway was a dead-end and she'd backed away from her attacker as far as she could. She was crouched in that defensive stance Cody had seen a thousand times before, her lightsaber held out in front of her at a defensive, downward angle. A Wanted poster stretched out behind her and Cody registered the faces around her with half-conscious recognition. Commander Ahsoka's face looked out over Tay's left shoulder; General Kenobi seemed almost serene in his own photo by Tay's right thigh. And, ironically enough, Tay's left hand was pressed against the picture of her own, sightless face.

A crumpled form lay on the ground at her feet. Cody quickly categorized it as Saa; a trail of thin smoke still drifted up from his still body. It looked like he'd been shot in the shoulder, but Cody couldn't be certain.

And, between him and Tay, stood an imposing figure in oddly familiar Phase I armor. Parts of it had been painted a matte black and it seemed modified, though in the haste of the moment, Cody couldn't directly identify what was different.

In any case, he recognized the pattern of black-and-white armor pieces.

_Jecks._

Something cold formed into durasteel-like resolution inside of Cody. Without another thought, he moved in behind Jecks and took the bounty hunter by surprise.

Years of flash-instruction and practical application kicked into high gear. Cody swiftly put his arm over Jecks' shoulder and then under his forearm, just to twist his hand and grab a hold of the bounty hunter's wrist. The other clone had a blaster in his hand, pointed at Tay, so Cody pulled the man's arm back, pointing the blaster toward the sky, as he grabbed the the bottom half of Jecks' helmet with his other hand and twisted sharply to the side.

Once, Cody would have been strong enough to snap a neck with that one, simple move. But, six months of abuse and addiction had robbed him of most of his strength. And, even though work in the mines had kept the muscles in his arm in fairly decent shape, the last two weeks hovering between life and death, hadn't done him any favors.

Jecks merely grunted and snapped his head back, easily over-powering Cody's hold on him. Cody managed to lower his head just in time, so the bounty hunter's helmet only smashed into his forehead, instead of into his nose, but it was enough to make him see stars. Before he could gather his wits about him, Jecks dropped his weight into his knees and slung Cody easily over his back.

Cody's own back connected into the hard ground with a solid thunk. All of his breath whooshed out of him and for a few precious seconds, Cody tried to regain his senses. He'd remained aware enough to realize that something had clattered onto the ground above his head and he turned his face enough to catch a glimpse of Jecks' blaster laying between him and Saa.

The former clone commander's reaction was instinctual. Even though his ribs ached from the rush of air knocked out of him and even though his neck and shoulders suddenly screamed in protest, he kicked his leg out toward Jecks' knee and caught the bounty hunter square in the shin. The man's leg buckled out from underneath him and he collapsed practically on top of Cody's prone form.

The fight became a silent, deadly scuffle for supremacy. Everything happened so quickly, that Cody was barely able to recall the details afterwards. But, Jecks' fist connected firmly with Cody's cheek, right under his right eye and along the high arch of his cheekbone. Another fist connected with his jaw so sharply, that Cody could feel small bits of his molars chip off as his teeth snapped together.

He gave back as good as he got, though it was significantly harder to hit a man in armor. At some point, Jecks' viroblade came into play and the two wrestled along the ground, knocking into Saa's prone form at least once in the course of their struggle.

The viroblade stung, as it cut into Cody's shoulder once, twice. He managed to push Jecks off of him long enough to get his feet underneath him, but then Jecks lashed out and a fresh trail of pain seared across Cody's chest, right across where one of his newer scars was still healing. The pain drove Cody back to his knees and Jecks drove a fist squarely into the side of his head.

Cody saw a bright, blinding light for a second time, as pain erupted behind his eyes. For a moment, everything seemed washed a pale purple, from the light thrown by Tay's still-drawn lightsaber. He dimly registered Jecks lunging for his prone form again, but then the sound of a blaster shot cracked far too close to his ear for comfort.

The ground vibrated next to him as a heavy form in armor came crashing down. Blinking madly, trying to clear his vision of the lights and the pain, Cody scrambled away from the fallen form and tried to make sense of what had happened. Slack-jawed, he turned his head toward the sound of the shot -

Tay had picked up dropped blaster pistol and still had it aimed toward Jecks' fallen body. Her hand shook, though, and Cody struggled to catch his breath as he gaped at her handiwork.

"Nice shot," he finally managed to wheeze.

He kicked out with his foot and caught Jecks along his thigh. The man groaned incoherently, but didn't stir otherwise.

"He's still alive," Cody pointed out the obvious.

"I know," the purple glow disappeared as Tay deactivated her lightsaber with a metallic-sounding _schinng_.

Cody just whipped his head around to stare at her in speechless shock. And then, for several seconds, he was rendered speechless for another matter entirely.

She hitched up the skirt of her billowing dress and revealed quite a lot of cream-colored skin to his view. Cody noted with detached interest that her legs looked firm and quite shapely indeed.

She hitched her lightsaber onto the garter, toward the inside of her thigh and then let her skirt fall back down. Cody blinked, the damage quite soundly done.

He hadn't seen that much skin since Jaria. Cody could feel the tips of his ears turning red.

"Help me get Saa," she bent forward, to roll Saa onto his back.

More skin fell into view as Cody sat on the ground and looked up. He was struck by the sheer inappropriateness of his gawking. Saa was injured to his left and Jecks was incapacitated to his left. But, adrenaline ran close to testosterone and there'd been a very physiologically explainable reason why Jaria had enjoyed welcoming him back to _Resolute_ after particularly dangerous missions.

He cleared his throat and forced his thoughts _back_ to the present and _away_ from Tay's unintentional display of _skin_. He scrambled to his feet and winced at the pain that laced his movements with a bracing reality. That centered his thoughts, all right.

"What about Jecks?" he hesitated and waved toward the still-very-much-alive bounty hunter.

"How do you know his name?" she ignored his question for a moment and fixed him with her own.

For a moment, shame crept through Cody's adrenaline rush. Shame flushed across his face and he tried to look anywhere but at Tay, or Jecks, or Saa.

"I've dealt with him before," he answered, vaguely.

_I've _paid _him before,_ he screamed inside of the safety of his mind.

"Ah," Tay seemed satisfied by this answer and finally addressed Cody's original question. "So, what about him?" she crouched next to Saa and let her hands linger over his heart and head, as if checking his vitals through some intangible means.

"He's alive," Cody answered bluntly, relieved that she didn't decide to pursue any further questioning about his "dealings" with Jecks.

"Leave him," Tay shook his head.

Cody blustered for a moment, completely flabbergasted.

"Leave him? He tried to _kill _you!"

"And I've dealt with his problem for the moment. He won't move any time soon," Tay snapped, her face lifting to meet his.

The stress of the situation was etched across her face and the set of her shoulders told Cody she wouldn't back down. Still, he didn't understand...

"Why?" he asked without preamble.

"He can die alone in this alleyway for all I care," Tay's voice was frigid. "But, he's unable to defend himself at the current moment and I won't kill in cold blood. He can live to fight me another day, if he's able. Until then, he stays."

Her face stayed riveted to Cody, her intentions resolute.

"Alive."

Cody lifted his hands as if to say, "okay, okay!" But, he still gave Jecks' fallen form another good kick, for good measure, as he stepped over the bounty hunter and moved over toward Saa.

If Tay noticed him kicking the fallen bounty hunter, she didn't say anything. Her attention had returned almost instantly to Saa and she took a deep breath as Cody crouched down across from her.

"He's stable enough to move, for now. But we need to get him home as soon as possible," she slid her hands underneath his shoulder and nodded toward Saa's feet. "I'll grab the top, if you'll grab the bottom."

"I've got a better idea," Cody stood up and stepped over Saa.

He nudged Tay aside with his hip. She stared up at him for a moment, uncertain, but finally moved. Cody bent over and grabbed Saa underneath his arms and underneath his knees. Without a word - but, with a grunt or two of effort - Cody lifted the older man's dead weight and settled it across his shoulders.

"Fireman's carry. _Lot_ easier for long distances."

He spoke from the voice of experience and Tay didn't argue with him.

"Hurry," was all she said as she walked quickly around Jecks' bleeding form.

Cody didn't need to be told twice. He kicked Jecks again - just to make himself feel better - as he stepped over him and hurried after Tay without another word.

* * *

Almost a standard hour passed without either Cody or Tay saying a word. For the most part, Cody kept to the background, while Tay worked tirelessly on keeping Saa alive. He made short trips between the kitchen and the guest bedroom several times, to refill a glazed pottery basin with lukewarm water, or to swap out bloody rags, or to get Tay a glass of water.

Saa's injuries were a _lot _more extensive than Cody originally thought. The older merc had sustained several cracked ribs, two blaster shots, a broken arm, and several viroblade cuts. From the wounds, Cody managed to determine that Saa's fight with Jecks had probably started from a distance, then became up-close and personal, and then ended at a distance. The undercover barkeeper had sustained heavy injuries and it didn't take the Force to know that Tay was struggling to keep him alive.

Most of her intervention appeared to be a comfortable blending of Force meditation and conventional medicine. Saa's upper body was quickly covered in bacta patches and Tay's hands hovered over various wounds at various times, as she whispered wordlessly above her friend's prone body.

Cody watched, fascinated despite himself. He'd never seen a professional Jedi healer at work, before. There had been far too many times when he'd seen Generals Skywalker or Kenobi perform basic battle triage with the Force; he'd even seen young Commander Ahsoka set a bone or two before, through meditation. And, he'd heard about Commander Barriss' gifts as a healer - but he'd never seen it in person. It was a strange, and strangely wonderful, sight to behold.

Tay was completely dedicated to her craft and Cody watched with a rising sense of awe. Her lack of eyesight didn't seem to hinder her in the least; in fact, it seemed that she was more adept, _because_ of it. Cody couldn't even begin to fathom what she was doing through the Force, or how using something so intangible was key to saving a life, but he could respect the clinical competency she exhibited with every measured movement.

She was as skilled in saving life, as he was with taking it.

The odd juxtaposition of their opposing forces struck him for the first time. He'd never really associated the preservation of Life with the Jedi; he knew that, at least on an intellectual and philosophical level, that's what they were trained to defend at all costs. But, he'd seen too many Jedi caught up in the bloody tides of battle and war. It was a glimpse into another side of the Order, to see Tay struggle so ardently to knit Saa's body back together.

Every so often, Cody would leave the room to go check his own wounds in the quiet solitude of the 'fresher. Jecks' viroblade had left several nasty slashes across Cody's chest and arms, but it wasn't anything he couldn't deal with himself. When Tay wasn't looking, he liberated a few bacta patches from the batch she'd set aside by Saa's bed. After washing the wounds himself and making sure they were clean, Cody slapped patches over his cuts and resumed his vigil by the guest room door.

Finally, she stepped away from Saa's bedside and let her hands fall to her side. She swayed dangerously on her feet and threw her hand out, as if searching for a steadier point of contact. Cody instinctively slipped across the room and took her arm.

"You should probably eat," he suggested, quietly.

"Saa's past the worst of it," Tay seemed to ignore Cody's comment about food; her face remained firmly fixed toward her protector's silent form. "The best we can do for him now is let him sleep."

She finally turned, slowly, and titled her face up toward Cody's. To his surprise, she stepped in toward him and leaned her shoulder against his chest. The former clone commander was momentarily uncertain - other than Jaria, he'd never had another female try to seek comfort in the shelter of his body. Feeling both inadequate and awkward, Cody put a hand on her shoulder and gently started steering her towards the door.

"You need to sit down," he suggested, feeling quite lame and wished - just this once - that he was able to influence minds with some nifty Jedi trick.

"Yes," Tay finally agreed, her voice quiet and a little shaky. "I think you're right."

They had just made it to the door, when her knees buckled out from under her. Cody reacted instinctively and caught her neatly by her elbows. Without a single word spoken between them, he put one arm around her shoulders and the other underneath her knees, and scooped her up against his chest. He stopped dead in his tracks, though, when she grabbed the front of his borrowed shirt and started crying silently.

* * *

It was a curious thing, to watch a Miraluka cry. Without eyes, there were no tears, but the outward emotional distress was the same as with any other sentient being. Cody felt quite overwhelmed - crying females were _well_ out of his realm of experience. Jaria had never been the crying kind and the only other female he'd ever had close contact with, had been Commander Ahsoka. As a young teenager, who's emotions ran to a number of extremes, Cody rather suspected she'd cried and had probably cried often. But, that'd been Rex's or General Skywalker's concern, thankfully - _not _his.

Things probably would have been a lot less awkward, if he'd been able to set Tay down on the living room couch and put some distance between them. But, she clung to him. And Cody wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

So, he held her and stumbled silently through his own confusion. It was hard not to notice that she seemed to fit quite nicely into his arms, or that her body was firm with a number of soft curves in all of the right places. She smelled good, too - like tea, and flowers, and honey. One of his hands were pressed flat against the bottom curve of her spine, right where her low-cut dress dipped short of her lower back. As the storm of her emotions raged over them both, Cody's fingers began to stroke against her smooth skin in a unconscious attempt to sooth her.

One of her hands found the opened front of his shirt and curled around his neck. She cried into his shoulder and buried her face so that he could only see the side of her neck and her cheek. Her skin was flushed a bright crimson and her body shook in quiet sobs; Cody just tightened his grip on her shoulders and held her closer.

He lifted his head to look up at the smoothly impersonal, white-washed ceiling. The sudden intimacy of the moment was..._odd_. And, he struggled not to react physically or inappropriately to it. Something had changed in that moment when he'd stepped up behind Jecks in that blackened alleyway. Cody wasn't sure what had changed, nor was he sure what to do. But, now Tay clung to him as if he was all that was keeping her together and Cody felt his own emotional barriers cracking in the wake of her sorrow.

And as she cried, he wondered.

Why had he risked his life to save her? It would have been the easiest thing in the world to just walk on by. Or, to turn around and pretend that he hadn't heard her lightsaber, or the blaster shot, or her scream. He hadn't had to get involved. He could have just continued on his way and lost himself to the anonymity of the slums and the night.

But, he _had_ stopped. He _had _taken on another clone - a brother - who had been in better shape than him. He _had_ taken a beating for Tay; he could feel the bottom of his left eye, right along the curve of his cheekbone, swelling painfully and his jaw throbbed from where Jecks had hit him. He _had_ bled for her and the cuts he'd taken from Jecks' viroblade would heal into permanent scars.

Into permanent reminders of what he'd risked for her.

A _Jedi_.

He could no longer hide from the truth of what she was. And the truth didn't so much _surprise_ him, as it _unsettled_ him. He hadn't expected the reaction he'd given, when faced with what she truly was. Coming to her rescue had seemed natural, completely unfettered by the fact that she was a Jedi on the run. Completely uncomplicated by the fact that he had stood aside while many other Jedi had been killed, or that he'd been the one to pull the trigger so many times before.

Cody knew he'd given up his honor for good at Bellassa. But, it seemed as if he still sought some form of redemption. Even if he didn't believe he deserved it, he still longed for what he didn't have.

He still longed for honor. For redemption. For grace. For justice.

He still longed for the man he'd been, once upon a time.

And as he sat in Tay's dark, quiet living room and held her tightly to his chest, Cody wondered. Had he truly lost the man he'd been? Or was "Commander Cody" still there inside of him, somewhere, smothered underneath his addictions, but still alive?

He'd done what _Commander_ Cody would have done. He'd saved a life, a Jedi. He'd acted without thinking; he'd acted solely on the honor he thought he didn't have anymore. He'd acted without a thought to Order 66, or Order 37, or to any order except the one he'd given himself a long time ago -

To protect what life he could, when he could.

Cody bowed his head, finally, and subtly breathed in the soft, flowery scent of her short hair. Her sobs had subsided, but she still lay in his arms, her hand curled firmly against his neck, her face still buried in his chest. Silence, now unbroken, settled between them and Cody couldn't help but be aware of the consequences that he'd created.

He'd saved her life, as she'd done for him. The debt between them was settled, but Cody slowly began to realize that in saving her, he'd forged a bond he couldn't - and _shouldn't _- break.

And Cody couldn't help but wonder -

_What happens, now?_

* * *

"Thank you," Tay finally whispered into his shirt.

They had sat quietly on her couch for the better half of ten minutes. Cody had continued to hold her and stroke her lower back; her breathing had finally settled back to normal and her face wasn't quite so red as it had been before.

She lifted her face and moved her hand behind Cody's shoulder. With measured ease, she sat up in his lap and faced him, as if searching the face she couldn't see. He felt something intangible brush against him and he shifted uncomfortably - he knew that feeling. She was touching him through the Force, trying to gain some sense of him in the only way she could.

He still recoiled from it, not yet certain that he should let her take a good look at him. Despite what he had done, despite the fact that he'd rescued her, despite the fact that he had held her while she cried, Cody still wasn't sure he deserved her quiet regard.

As if sensing his hesitancy to be judged, Tay put her hand flat against his chest and started pushing herself gently away from him. Cody - reluctantly - let go of her body and she found her feet with elegant uncertainty. The white-haired Jedi stood up in front of him and paused just long enough to let a hand linger gently on his shoulder.

"You're hurt," the corners of her full lips curled down into a concerned frown.

She bent forward toward him, her knees leaning against the cushions of the couch, as her hands began to drift experimentally across Cody's chest and arm. A blush of his own crept up into the tips of his ears, as her fingers brushed against bare skin, and he grabbed one of her wrists in a rough hand.

"Don't worry. Just a few scratches. I took care of them while you were taking care of Saa."

Her concern filled him with shame. She'd practically exhausted herself on Saa and she was still worried about _him._

He wanted to say, "_Don't waste your time_." But, he held his tongue instead and pushed her hands away as gently as he knew how.

"But..." she tried to protest, but Cody took hold of her hands and stood up.

She was so small next to him; her head barely reached the top of his chest. He felt funny, as he looked down at her. His sudden, inexplicable desire to protect her seemed to border almost on instinct.

"I put a few bacta patches on. I'll be fine. Trust me," he grimaced, even though she couldn't see. "I've had worse."

She made a small noise, as if in disagreement, but she finally respected his wishes and stepped away. Cody let go of her wrists and as he felt strangely empty, as he watched her turn and move toward the kitchen.

He had _liked_ the weight of her body in his arms. He'd _enjoyed_ the feel of her body against his. Embarrassment deepened the tinge of red at the tips of his ears and he felt lower than slime.

He had no right to feel that way about her. Or, about any woman.

_Bellassa..._

He sighed heavily and looked away from her, toward the vague cityscape outside of her living room window. Cody ran an absent hand through his short-cropped hair and berated himself silently.

Saving her didn't exonerate him from the sins of the past. And, truthfully, he wouldn't have saved her at all, if he hadn't left looking for stims.

He knew she'd ask about that, soon enough. His gut twisted.

No, he didn't deserve to have even the vaguest of inappropriate thoughts about her. He had no right to take comfort in her. He was just scum, really. An addict who'd given up any right to his own manhood.

She'd know that for certain, in time.

And, he was sure, she wouldn't come looking for comfort in his arms ever again.

* * *

Tay emerged from the kitchen several minutes later, carrying two gently steaming mugs of what Cody knew by now was tea. She handed him a mug and then settled down gracefully in a plush armchair set directly across from the couch.

"You should sit down, too, Cody, and stop being so hard on yourself," she motioned toward the couch with her free hand.

Cody looked down at her, shamefaced, but did what she had asked. He perched gingerly on the edge of the couch and felt incredibly awkward, as he stared into the depths of his tea mug.

"There's not a whole lot that escapes your notice, is there?" he asked glumly, after a moment of quiet introspection.

"Not usually," Tay sighed, as if wishing that she could say otherwise. "It's easy to sense emotions through the Force. Especially ones as raw as yours, Cody."

"Oh," he mumbled and wasn't exactly sure what to say to that.

He took a sip of his tea - it was different than the Alderaan Black that she usually served in the mornings. This one was mellow and had a hint of some sort of flowery herb to it. He took another cautious sip and remembered its taste from before - it was the same kind of tea she'd given him to help soothe his hangover. He didn't have a hangover now, but it seemed to help calm his tangled nerves.

"I apologize if my crying confused you, by the way," she sounded almost shy and Cody glanced at her in surprise.

She was looking down into her cup this time and he resisted the urge to stretch his hand out over the small table between them and touch her knee. It seemed strange to hear her asking for forgiveness. As far as Cody was concerned, she didn't even have to ask. There was nothing she could do that required apology.

At least, not when it regarded _him_.

"It's just..." she paused and took a deep breath to steady her suddenly uneven voice. "A lot to take in tonight."

"That's a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Cody raised an eyebrow and tried to speak lightly.

He failed, of course, but his words seemed to be a sufficient encouragement to her.

"Saa saved me before, you know," she talked to her tea mug and seemed almost lost in memories from another time.

Cody sat still and listened, as his tea cooled between his hands.

"I was on a medship in orbit around Felucia. Saa was actually one of my patients at the time - he was a Separatist prisoner, oddly enough."

Cody quirked another eyebrow. No wonder the man rubbed him the wrong way.

"They put him in holding, injured. He wasn't as badly injured as he is tonight, but it was enough to make a difference, I suppose. The other doctors and nurses didn't want anything to do with him; as far as they were concerned, Saa could stay in holding and his body could heal as best it could without intervention."

She paused and considered her tea for a moment.

"Saa has said, since then, that he owed me a debt of gratitude. From my point of view, I was just doing what was _right _- what any Jedi Healer should have done. Our vows to save life said nothing about political alignment," she shrugged, her humility unpretentious in its expression.

Cody knew _exactly_ what Saa meant; he felt that way himself. Maybe it was the "right" thing to waste time on men like themselves, but it wasn't the _common_ thing. Not by a long shot.

Her story continued, her voice growing almost as quiet as a whisper.

"I was down in holding, tending to Saa, when Order 66 came through. I guess it's what saved me, in the end."

Cody could see her knuckles turn almost white as she gripped her tea mug in both hands. She shivered, as if suddenly cold, and he felt his own blood turn to ice.

"A lot of good people died on that medship, at the hands of our own patients. Some of the doctors and nurses tried to defend us Jedi, but there just too many soldiers," her voice wavered and Cody thought she was going to cry again.

He willed her _not_ to. He wasn't sure he could handle it a second time.

"Some of our patients - a few of the elite troopers and commandos, mostly - tried to counter-act the Order with orders of their own. But, there was no stopping the killing," her voice broke, but she took a deep breath and continued on as the memory poured out of her. "I survived only because of Saa. He was barely able to move, but he managed somehow. I guess it's that Mandalorian stubbornness of his. Holding was close to the hangars and he managed to get me there and into a fighter. I don't remember much after that."

Tay took a moment to compose herself and Cody hoped, for just a moment, that she was done with her awful narrative.

It was almost surreal to hear about the events of Order 66 from the "other side". Her memory filled him with inexplicable shame. He knew, intellectually, that some of his brothers had defied the Chancellor's orders. He'd seen some of their names come up on the Wanted List - commandos, ARCs, and Nulls, mostly. Names like "Niner" and "Atin" from the rogue Omega Squad. Even Rex's name had gone from "Missing In Action" to "Wanted." Cody had known why.

_Commander Tano._

Rex, a simple clone army captain, had found it in him to defy his very nature. Cody - an ARC trained commander elite, specifically hand-picked and taught to think for himself - had failed.

His shame and loathing knew no bounds, as he sat there and faced the harsh reality that Tay represented by simply being alive.

"Saa brought me here to Anobis, his home planet. Like I said, I don't remember much about that flight. The Force turned into a dark and empty void for me, that day. So many deaths," her fingers fiddled with the handle of her mug and her voice wavered again. "I remember feeling my husband die that day. I don't even know where he was. But, his signature in the Force was like so many that day - there one minute and then irrevocably lost the next. I can only hope he died with honor."

The emptiness of her loss pierced Cody to the quick. He looked down at the floor, unable to watch her any more. He could almost guarantee how Del had died. He had been the husband of a Jedi healer; surely, he had resisted Order 66, with honor, like Tay hoped. And, for that honor, he had died at the hand of his brothers.

At the hand of brothers _just like him_.

"We've been here ever since," Tay continued, her quiet words interrupting Cody's thoughts. "Saa helped me settle down on the agricultural side and helped me get contracts here in the city. He started a bar, ostensibly for extra income, though I now suspect it was more of a means to keep an ear on the Empire."

She shook her head, her expression plaintive and vulnerable. Cody studied her face for a moment and then contemplated the tops of his boots, again.

"I knew, intellectually, that they'd come for me," her voice was barely above a whisper. "But..."

She took a heavy breath and Cody looked up. She had turned her face to look toward the glass porch door, her expression suddenly fearful. He resisted the urge to reach across the polished table between them and pull her back into the strength of his arms.

He refused to think of his arms as _safe_. Not to her. Not to any woman. But...strong would suffice.

"I got careless. And I nearly got you and Saa killed."

Cody said the only thing he could think of, to that -

"It would have been a good way to die."

And he meant it. _Truly_ meant it.

He marveled momentarily over that realization. He'd killed at least a hundred Jedi, either directly or indirectly. And he'd wanted to kill himself many times since Bellassa, but hadn't found the courage to do it. He even couldn't bring himself to kill himself outright by way of his addictions.

But, he'd die for the woman sitting in shimmering blue across from him.

He'd die for her in a heartbeat.

Because, she was everything that he wasn't.

Because, her goodness was worth dying _for_.

"I'd rather you _live_, Cody," there was a hint of something to Tay's voice; Cody glanced up, suddenly shy. "But...thank you."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. Instead, he turned his head away from her and looked toward the kitchen without really looking at anything. He floundered in silence for a moment, flummoxed by her gratitude.

He didn't deserve gratitude. Not from her. Not from anyone.

"Jecks will come after you again, you know," he finally changed the subject, hoping to switch to something safer.

"No, he won't," her voice was surprisingly certain and Cody looked back at her in surprise.

Her chin was lifted almost defiantly, as if sensing his disagreement.

"What makes you say that?" he blurted, shocked by her certainty.

"Everything about him changed when he saw your face. He wasn't expecting to fight another clone - a brother, if you will. He didn't fight you, like he fought Saa; not a single one of his blows was aimed to kill. Incapacitate you, perhaps. But, not to kill," she shook her head, dead-set in her inexplicable _knowing_.

Cody quirked an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"You can sense all that through the _Force_?"

"Yes, oh ye of little faith," her tone turned a little prim and Cody fought the urge to snort under his breath. "'Jecks', as you call him, has no desire to kill another clone, if he can help it. He might send others after us, but he won't come after either you or I personally, again."

"You assume, of course, that I'll be with you, next time."

Cody didn't even ask if there would be a 'next time.' It was foregone fact.

And, in that single question, the whole conversation turned around. He realized it as soon as 'time' left his mouth; Cody's stomach plummeted. He didn't have to be told what was coming next, as Tay titled her head to the side.

"Why were you with me _this _time, Cody?"

_Ah. The moment of truth,_ he studied the floor and refused to look at her.

Disgust welled up inside of him and he wished fervently that he could lie. But, there wasn't anything he could say, that she wouldn't know instantly wasn't the truth. So, he squeezed his eyes shut and spoke the answer in a controlled, flat, monotone.

"I left the house looking for stims."

_And alcohol, _he added, in his mind.

Tay was quiet for a long moment. An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he felt her brush against him with the Force. He wanted to jerk away, again, but given the situation, he decided it was best if he let her consider him for herself. He clenched his jaw tight and sat perfectly still, as a strange sensation of another's awareness swept gently over him.

Her next question took him by surprise.

"Did you find any?"

He paused.

"Yes."

The tone of her voice changed subtly; before, it had been cool and almost detached. But now, suddenly, it switched to something softer. She spoke in barely above a whisper and his soul writhed in turmoil.

"Why did you save me, Cody?"

His answer was honest as he could give.

"I don't know."

He hung his head, his hands gripped firmly around his forgotten tea mug. Shame filled every particle of his being and the disapproval of her countenance weighed heavy on his slumped shoulders.

"I think, Cody, that you saved me tonight, because you're not as lost as you think you are," her voice softly brushed against the raw wounds torn open in his heart.

"Do you know what I've done?" he whispered back, his voice cracking slightly under the strain of his self-hate.

"Does it matter?" she countered, her words gently sensible.

"I've killed Jedi," he took a hand - his gun hand - and wiped it unconsciously against his knee, as if wiping unseen blood against the rough, heavy cloth of his utility pants. "I've killed women. Children."

"And yet, you saved a life tonight."

"It doesn't change what I've done," he kept his eyes shut, more to keep unshed tears from spilling, than for any other reason.

There was a long pause, before she spoke again. His heart sank at her words.

"You're right, Cody. It doesn't."

He wallowed in despair, and nearly missed the strength and hope wrapped up within her next words.

"You can't change the _past_, Cody. But, you can change the _future_, if you try."

"I don't know how," his confession clawed out from inside of him and poured into the quiet room, like blood from a poisoned wound.

There was the sound of rustling cloth and Cody sensed Tay moving across the small distance between them. He squeezed his eyes shut even further, his eyes stinging with tears he refused to let fall. Soft, cool hands settled against his cheeks and he jerked instinctively away.

"Shhhh," she whispered, soothingly, and placed her hands back on his cheeks.

This time, Cody forced himself to accept her touch and his body shook underneath her hands. A thumb caressed the corner of his bruised eye and wiped away a stray tear that had managed to escape.

"I think you do, Cody."

He was startled by how close her words felt against his skin. He blinked his eyes open and saw her gentle face just inches away from his. Her lips brushed the swelling bruise underneath his eye.

For a moment, the planet stood still and Cody forgot how to breath. Then, she pulled slightly back and let one of her hands drift away from his cheek. Her fingers brushed along the curve of his knee and then headed with quiet certainty toward the outside pocket along his calf.

Shame and revulsion churned inside of him as her small hand fished inside of his pocket. Seconds later, she drew out the handful of stim needles his few credits had managed to buy and he tried to turn his face in shame.

"Look at them, Cody," her voice was gentle, but firm.

Her other hand kept his face in place and he willed himself to obey her soft-spoken command. The sight of the needles laying across her open fingers filled him with unspeakable shame.

They had no place there, not in her hands. Her hands were clean, innocent, gentle. The objects of his self-inflicted death looked horribly out of place as they lay across her fingers. His soul cringed away from the ugly reality of his addiction.

"These feel like _nothing_, in the Force. They're void, empty," her words stung, but he forced himself to listen. "They're like a space vacuum, bent on destroying what ever they come in contact with. You carry this awful emptiness around with you, Cody. You're like a black hole, folding in on yourself and falling apart."

She lifted her hand closer to his face, as if offering the needles to him. He finally recoiled and leaned up, away from her hands and the stims.

"I'll be going back to my home on the agricultural side, in the morning. I'll be taking Saa with me, too, so he can heal in safety. The Empire barely has any presence on the other side of the planet. It's as safe as any place, for now."

A safe place. Cody didn't miss the offer in her words. Or, the choice she was finally forcing him to make.

He stared at the stims in his hand. And then, slowly, with shaking fingers, he reached out and took them from her.

"They'll always come for you, Cody," her voice was softer than moonlight, softer than her fingers that began to stroke gently across his bruised jaw.

Firm fingers tipped his chin up toward her face and they looked at each other. Though, Cody suspected, she saw far more truth than he ever would.

And, he knew what she meant by "they." She wasn't talking about bounty hunters, or the Empire. She was talking _them_...the needles. The alcohol. The past. The disease that had become all of them rolled into one, that preyed daily on his heart, and soul, and mind.

He'd never outrun them. He'd never be free of them.

He let his hand tilt down and the needles dropped to the floor in a muffled clink of glass and duraplastic.

He didn't deserve redemption, but maybe he could find some small bit of it. He didn't deserve kindness, or radiance, or truth, or honor.

But, he'd done one thing right, tonight. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough of a start.

He lifted his foot, his eyes fixed on Tay as if she were a beacon in a storm.

Maybe, this one life he'd saved was enough to save his own.

He brought his boot down on the stim needles, crushing them underneath his heel. The sound of breaking, crunching glass echoed sharply across the room.

They'd come for him again. The addictions. The cravings. The desires.

But, maybe, just maybe, he'd finally gotten enough of a head start to put them behind him for good.

He realized with a sudden clarity that came at the sound of broken glass, that he wanted to be there, when they - the Empire, Jecks, his brothers - came for her.

Maybe he didn't deserve redemption. But, she deserved the chance to live and to spread what goodness she had left, in a galaxy that so desperately needed kindness.

And, that was reason enough for him.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd find redemption by being there for her. Yes, he'd be there.

He bowed his head, still held between her hands, and she placed a gentle, lingering kiss on his forehead.

_When they come for both of us, I'll be ready._

_I'll be clean._


	6. Robot Boy1

_"You say the weight of the world / Has kept you from letting go / And you think compassion's a flaw / And you'll never let it show / And you're sure you've hurt in a way / That no one will ever know / But someday, the weight of the world / Will give you the strength to go."_

**Linkin Park  
"Robot Boy"**

* * *

"It will cost you extra to move him like this, you do realize?"

Cody stood in the background, his arms folded defensively over his chest, as he watched the conversation proceed between Tay and a rather pragmatic Togorian. The two females seemed to know each other well, but there also seemed to be a strange tension between them that Cody couldn't quite figure out.

"He's _Aliit Alor_ -" Tay started, but the Togorian cut her off.

"As _Alor_, price should not be a concern."

"And yet, Hella, it seems that _is_," Tay countered and placed her hands on her hips in a silent expression of exasperation.

"I mean no disrespect, _ner vod_," Hella flattened her ears almost apologetically against her skull and waved a hand about waist-level as if to pacify Tay's rising indignation. "But, if Sa_'ika_ is going to be transported incapacitated like this," her hand moved to motion toward Saa's unmoving form on the bed in front of them. "Then I have to ask for an extra fee to cover what the Cargo Union calls 'death insurance'. It is a _business_ matter, not a _personal_ one."

The two women faced each other from across opposite sides of Saa's bed. Cody couldn't see Tay's face, since her back was turned toward him, but her back seemed a little straighter, her stance a little more defensive than usual. The Togorian, Hella, seemed equally on edge, but she at least seemed to be trying to defer to Tay's authority on the matter at hand. The ex-commander shook his head and shifted - he didn't know much about females, but he knew enough to stay out of their internal affairs.

Tay finally sighed and lifted one of her hands to her face. She was silent for a few moments, as if thinking, and when she finally spoke, her voice sounded a little nasal, as if she were pinching the bridge of her nose.

"How much more are we talking?"

"Two hundred credits," Hella seemed genuinely apologetic.

Tay sighed and her hand fell down to her side.

"That's not as much as I was fearing," she admitted; her voice sounded relieved.

There was another long pause, during which the two females seemed to be considering each other again.

"Do I have to pay you extra for confidentiality?" Tay's words were quiet.

"You are_ aliit_ and Saa is _alor_," Hella shook her head, her voice softer as well. "And as Sa'_ika_ would say, there is no price for loyalty."

Cody was quietly fascinated by the casual intermingling of Mando'a words. He wasn't sure what "_aliit_" or "_alor_" meant, but they were words of significance for the two women. He eyeballed Saa, who's face was still and pale, and realized that the older merc was clearly a man of some importance to both the Miraluka and the Togorian. He wondered absently about the Mando's history.

"Thank you," Tay sighed deeply and the defensive set of her shoulders eased considerably.

Hella even smiled slightly and the orange-striped Togorian nodded in silent acceptance of Tay's gratitude.

"What time can we leave?"

"My transport can be here in about fifteen minutes," Hella twitched an ear forward and glanced down at Saa. "Are you sure_Buir_ is stable enough for movement? Should not we get a doctor, first?"

"My care is no less professional than any doctor's," Tay's words were a bit frosty and Hella fixed the renegade Jedi with curious yellow-green eyes.

"You are a strange one, _ner vod_. You realize that quite a lot of our animosity could be settled if I just knew who you were?"

"I'm afraid your Togorian curiosity will have to remain unsated indefinately," Tay replied wryly. "Until the Empire falls, Saa is right - the less you and the rest of the _aliit_ know about me, the safer all of you are. You can't spill secrets you don't know."

Hella just shook her head. This, too, seemed like an old argument and Cody raised an eyebrow. Apparently, Saa's influence in the underworld extended well beyond just Tay and Hella. And, it seemed that only Saa knew the truth of Tay's identity.

_Wise move, _he thought.

Saa might have been old, ornery, bristly, and rude, but he wasn't an idiot. That much, was clear. Even hovering near death, he was protecting both Tay and untold others.

"Very well, then," Hella waved a hand dismissively and glanced around the room, as if looking for evidence of something. "You say he can be moved? Safely?" she stopped in her search and fixed Tay with a hard eye.

"Yes," Tay answered smoothly and confidently. "And he'll be safe with me, Hella. I promise."

Something like bemusement crossed the Togorian's face. Cody recognized the emotion and chuckled quietly himself. He'd felt that way around Tay plenty of times by now - she had an uncanny ability to sense thoughts before they were spoken. It was unsettling to him and it was nice to see that he wasn't the only one who struggled to be comfortable with Tay's inexplicably timed commentary.

Hella's sharp eyes moved quickly to settle on him. Her ears lay flat and the side of her mouth curled back to reveal a sharp canine in an unmistakable warning.

"You will be taking this _aruetii _with you?"

"Yes," Tay sighed, but didn't elaborate.

"I suppose I do not get to know who he is, either?" Hella didn't seem shy about hiding her displeasure, in the least.

"No," Tay shook her head. "But, he saved your _buir's_ life, so I wouldn't insult him too much."

"_Buir _seems to have an unfortunate habit of getting himself saved by _dar'manda_ and _aruetii_," Hella just rolled her eyes. "I will have to have a talk to him about that, when he gets better. It is very unseemly."

This seemed to amuse Tay and she laughed softly; Hella scowled. Clearly, as far as the Togorian was concerned, her words weren't meant to be taken with amusement. But, that didn't seem to bother Tay in the least.

Cody wondered if her inability to see, helped make her bolder than normal. He was sufficiently impressed by the Togorian's raw wildness, but Tay seemed singularly unafraid.

"Does it matter who saves him, _ner vod_? As long as he's alive?"

"Hmph," Hella just snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "I will be back with my transport in thirty minutes," she changed the subject abruptly and something like eagerness straightened the set of Tay's shoulders. "The sun will be setting, by then, and by the time we have loaded _Buir_ and your _things_," Hella's eyes flickered toward Cody with an unfriendly consideration. "Darkness will have set. I can have you to Midwidth in seven hours."

She turned abruptly on her heel and stalked stiffly toward the guest bedroom door. She paused, just as the door slid open, and shot her parting salvo over her shoulder.

"Be ready when I get here. Do not make me wait."

The door shut with a bristling finality and Tay finally turned toward Cody. She lifted a pale eyebrow and the corners her mouth quirked in something a smile.

"Welcome to Clan Par'jain, the cattiest clan in Mandalorian history," the demure Jedi pursed her lips in an effort to hide her smile. "No pun intended."

Cody just shook his head and wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. He wouldn't even pretend to understand the unspoken layers of what had just gone on around him.

_Females._

Being Mando just seemed to make them more dangerous than they already were, regardless of their species. The next several hours were promising to be quite awkward and Cody wanted nothing to do with any of it. He sighed heavily and wished for a few shots of Corellian whiskey - anything for a little boost in courage.

He was going to need it.

* * *

As it turned out, the night-time run to the eastern hemisphere of Anobis, wasn't as awkward as Cody had feared. Saa was placed on a portable stretcher and strapped securely to the cargo bulkhead. Tay settled down on the deck next to him and adopted the cross-legged, straight-backed pose that Cody had learned to associate with Jedi meditation. He'd caught Obi-Wan sitting in a similar position many times, often following their battles together.

Tay's meditation seemed different only in one small way - she kept a hand on Saa's wrist the entire time. From time to time, her lips moved, as if speaking a silent mantra and Cody wondered if she'd done the same for him, when he'd been laying sick in her guest bed.

It seemed so long ago, now, even though it had only been a short handful of days since he'd first gotten out of bed and greeted Tay in her sun-filled kitchen. It was hard for him to believe that barely a full week had passed since then; to him, it felt almost like a whole lifetime had passed.

Cody sat across from Tay and kept an eye on her and Saa during the flight. He had strapped himself against the green cargo webbing that was secured to the bulkhead on that side and sat awkwardly in a small seat that was clearly designed for utility -not comfort. He flipped through a holo-paper that Tay had given him at breakfast that morning, but it had been hard to read the Empire-inspired propaganda.

The journalistic cover on galaxy news was clearly biased; article after article extolled the untold virtues of the Empire and claimed peace at every page. Not a word was written even hinting at unspoken atrocities or crimes committed by the "dutiful and heroic veterans of the Republic's wasteful Clone Wars." Instead, Palpatine's Imperial Army was painted in shades of peace-keeping and humanitarianism; it made Cody's stomach churn.

Things could not possibly have changed from night to day in just eight short months. The Imperial Army was surely the same as he had left it - wasteful, disharmonious, cruel, and disillusioned. He hadn't been the only brother eaten alive by the atrocities they had committed in the name of Order 66, and countless other orders that followed. More than just the Jedi Order had been slaughtered in the wake of Order 66 - the clone troopers' tight-knit brotherhood had crumbled silently from within. Brothers had killed themselves, brothers had been killed, brothers had killed brothers, brothers had deserted, brothers had turned sides, brothers had gone rogue. The discipline of their army had fissured in the wake of their losses and the Emperor's solutions to their dwindling numbers had been devastating.

Cody remembered the other clones that had started showing up in _his_ 501st. The 501st had been quickly styled "Vader's Finest" and so, had earned the dubious distinction of gaining the shiniest prototypes. Kamino had been destroyed and no clone had been sorry to see it go - but when new clones started to show up from new cloning centers, disapproval had been swift.

These new clones were weak-willed and meek. Jango Fett was no longer used as a genetic base, since his progeny had been deemed "unstable" at worst and "rebelliously-inclined" at best. New genetic prototypes began to surface and Cody and his brothers had looked down their noses at them. They weren't brothers and for that, they were "lesser."

The new Imperial officers proved crueler than even the worst of the Jedi, by far. Cody had quickly learned to disrespect his officers; gone were the days of easy camaraderie with an almost patronly Kenobi. Now, there was regulation, punishment, unquestionable orders, and elitism. Cody had quickly learned that, while the Jedi might have become "traitors to the Republic", they had been unparalleled commanders. He had longed for Kenobi's leadership many times before Belassa and he had quietly known that he wasn't the only brother who did.

Cody flipped through the holo-paper for the better part of an hour, skimming articles and dubiously hoping for any word of truth. He didn't find any, though - or, at least, none that he could decipher from the thick top-layer of censored propaganda. He wondered if Tay would have been able to find something, maybe some bit of cryptic hope, but without her own eyes to read, he doubted he'd ever know.

He glanced at Saa and wondered - maybe if he saved the holo-paper, he could show it to Saa once the merc was feeling better. Cody wasn't sure Saa would be inclined, in the least, to sift Imperial journalism for any kernels of truth, but it was worth a try.

As it happened, Cody found his bit of hope on his own. On the last two pages of the holo-paper, were lists of Wanted fugitives. Cody read every name - Skirata, Ordo, Mereel, Fi, Atin, Jaing. Many names came with photos, mostly Jedi - Shaak Ti, Djinn Altis, Ferus Olin, Yoda.

Cody's eyes lingered on the names that meant the most to him - Rex, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Fox, Boil. Each name gave him hope.

Obi-Wan gave him hope, because as long as he was on the Wanted lists, he was alive. Somewhere in the galaxy at large, some great goodness still persisted, in defiance of the Empire. Cody still had great faith in the man he had once called "friend" - somehow, the clone was certain that as long as Obi-Wan Kenobi lived, there was still hope for the galaxy.

Rex and Ahsoka both gave him hope, because the very fact that their names appeared together on the lists paid silent testimony to a friendship that had meant more to either of them than orders. Rex had found love, of that Cody was certain. he wished his brother well and thought fondly of the spirited little Togruta that had never once strayed far from Rex's side. He knew that, no matter what, their lives represented some hope of rebellion against the greater evil.

Fox had disappeared long before Order 66, but now the loss of his friend didn't pain Cody quite so much. Fox had been called "deserter" and worse in the aftermath of his disappearance, but now Cody thought that maybe his friend had somehow sensed what was to come. The last he'd seen of Fox, he'd been absolutely besotted with a Zeltron singer who could have given even Commander Tano's spunk a good run for its money. Cody had thought Fox a bit of a fool at the time, but now he wasn't so sure. Fox wouldn't have survived the fall of the Republic; he'd been too loyal to the citizens of Coruscant, too loyal to his own principles. In the end, his own principles had saved him and for that, Cody had hope.

Boil surprised Cody; he hadn't known the dour trooper to be one for out-of-the-box behavior. But, something had sparked his rebellion, as marked by the Wanted lists. Cody wondered if he would ever get the chance to know what had happened.

Cody glanced at Tay. What if she had been his general, instead of Kenobi? What if he had fallen for her, like Gree for Barriss, or Rex for Ahsoka? What would he have done? What if she had died?

Cody thought of Gree grieved silently for his brother's loss. Barriss had been gentle and kind, from what he had sensed of her - not unlike Tay, in her own way. Her memory was one worth rebelling for; he realized that, now.

Any kindness was worth rebelling for. It was the only thing that could possibly heal the torn galaxy around them and its only hope for peace.

Three more names caught his eye - Sheltay Marr, Saa Par'jain, and his own. In the lists he was still addressed as "Commander Cody"; the distinction drove a bit of a pain through his heart. He was marked, indelibly, as a traitor to the Empire. As a deserter. As an outcast.

But, perhaps, even that in and of itself, was enough to give him hope. Cody lifted his head and glanced across the cargo bay at Tay. Shadows cast by the lights running along the top of the bay and along the bottom of the deck flickered across her face; she looked particularly ethereal in the bright, flickering lights. And he realized that there was no question in his mind as to whether or not he had finally made the right choice.

He was a deserter. Tay was a renegade. Saa was a rebel. In their own way, they each represented some sort of hope for the galaxy, though Cody couldn't imagine what, exactly. But, somehow, there was hope. Of that, he was sure, for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Cody finally set aside the holo-paper, crossed his arms, and leaned against the cold durasteel bulkhead behind him. He watched Tay for a while and let his thoughts drift through a variety of this and that. He craved alcohol and struggled silently against the restlessness that he had come to associate with his cravings.

He'd been clean for over two weeks, but each day without stims or whiskey seemed harder, somehow, than the last. There was nothing he could do about it, though - not since he had smashed the last of his stims the night before.

Cody was quickly beginning to realize that promising to live a clean life and then actually living it were two very different things. Breaking his stim needles and making the decision to follow Tay into the Anobis countryside was the easy part. Learning how to make it through the withdrawals, the cravings, and the dreams day after night after day, was a considerably harder issue.

Cody sighed and finally closed his eyes. As the transport engines droned around them, he drifted off into a fitful sleep. His last thought was about Obi-wan and the words from his hallucination came back in heart-twisting clarity.

_"You're nothing but a machine, CC-2224!"_

The accusation echoed through his mind, even on the edges of unconsciousness.

Cody's dreams were restless and empty, filled with the background hum of the transport's machines, which his tired mind couldn't seperate from the sound of his own heart.

* * *

"You take care of _Buir_," Hella stood with one paw on her transport's boarding ramp.

Her words were directed at Tay and there was a sudden vulnerability to the Togorian's tone. Her eyes reflected an opaque blue in the light that spilled out from the open door behind both Cody and Tay.

"Come back in about a month, if you can, Hella. You are always welcome here," Tay offered gently. "Saa should be back on his feet by then."

"See to it that he does," Hella nodded slowly in acceptance of Tay's hospitality. "We need him."

"I know," Tay replied gently and, with that, Hella turned and walked briskly back into her transport.

The boarding ramp closed with a sound like finality and the engines roared on a few seconds later. Snow and dirt whirled up into the air, and both Cody and Tay lifted an arm to block the worst of the back blast from their faces. Cody shivered in the wind kicked up by the transport; this side of Anobis was definitely cooler than what he was used to.

They watched silently as Hella roared into the distance and soon, all that was left was the quiet darkness that came before the dawn. Tay stifled a sudden yawn and Cody touched her elbow, as if to nudge her out of what seemed like an impromptu reverie.

Tay sighed heavily and her shoulders finally sagged, as if she'd let go of an awful burden that had been weighing her down. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned her face up toward Cody, smiling gently. Her face was etched deeply with exhaustion.

"Join me in a cup of tea?" she offered sweetly.

"Sure," Cody shrugged - he was starting to get used to this tea thing, though a large of part of him would have given half a leg for a good cup of caf.

He followed her into the house, after shutting and bolting the door behind them.

"Who_ is_ Saa?" he asked, as she guided him down the gently sloping foyer toward what he assumed would be the kitchen.

"What do you mean?" Tay sounded a bit puzzled by the randomness of the question.

"I mean..." Cody paused to think for a moment. "What's his story?"

"I'm afraid Saa's story is best told by him," Tay softened her response by throwing him a smile over her shoulder. "But I will say that he is a good, if rough, man."

"He's a merc, isn't he? Mandalorian?"

"Yes."

"What's_ 'Aliit Alor'_ mean?"

"Clan chief, or leader," the short female Jedi ushered him into a spacious room that was, by far, the largest kitchen Cody had ever seen before.

He paused in surprise and looked around him in a mixture of awe and surprise. Neatly organized cabinets lined the walls above immaculately kept counters. Several large, oval-shaped windows looked out into dark, snowy fields, and a collection of potted plants clustered in a corner that seemed set aside just for them. Pots hung from the ceiling, as well a large variety of dried herbs and other miscellaneous plants. The room spelled empty, as if it hadn't been used for a month or so - which it hadn't - but other than that, it smelled pleasantly inviting. It smelled a bit like Tay, actually - rich and earthy, like dirt and herbs and growing things.

"So, he's the leader of a whole Mandalorian clan?" Cody picked up the topic of conversation, after satisfying his visual curiosity about the kitchen surrounding them.

"Yes," Tay nodded as she reached into a cupboard for two mugs and a tin of tea. "The Par'jain clan is a small clan, by most standards. It was originally a clan comprised mostly of Togorians, but Saa was adopted as a youth by the former leader and he has, since, adopted others into the _aliit_."

"Like you?" Cody ventured.

"Not officially, no," Tay shook her head and put a kettle on to boil. "Though I am considered part of the aliit by association. Saa called my husband _'vod_', or 'brother', and extended the clan name to Del so that he would no longer be considered_dar'manda._ So I am part of the clan by marriage, though I choose to keep my maiden name."

"Why are things so tense between you and Hella?" Cody pressed, curious in spite of himself.

"You picked on that, then?" Tay seemed more amused than surprised.

She shrugged, as if trying to be nonchalant. She leaned her hip against the counter and turned to face Cody. Her face was open, if a bit perplexed.

"Hella is Saa's adopted daughter and only remaining child. He married, once, but never had children of his own and all of the sons that he adopted died during the War," a flicker of darkness chased itself across Tay's face. "Hella is the sole heir to the Par'jain clan and she takes that responsibility very seriously. She doesn't like me, because she doesn't know much about me, except that I'm now something of an aunt-in-law to her. And that makes her nervous and distrustful."

"I can't blame her," Cody spoke from a strictly tactical point of view, but he shrugged in an attempt to soften his words.

"Neither can I," Tay agreed. "Especially now. In this 'new' galaxy in which we live, one can never be too careful. But, Saa's protectiveness toward me has always been difficult for Hella to understand or accept. Without a suitable explanation, it's hard for her to realize that I'm no threat to her or to the safety of her aliit. Not to mention, Togorian females are quite territorial by nature."

It took Cody a moment to understand what Tay was trying to say, by using the word "territorial", but then it dawned on him and his eyes widened.

"She's _jealous_ of you?"

"She had reason to be, for a short while, I suppose," a tinge of pink colored the high curve of her cheeks.

Cody just stared, stupidly. He had the feeling that there was something Tay wasn't saying – something that she was almost willing him to understand, but he was too tired to read into what wasn't being said. Instead, he just shrugged and ran a hand across the top of his close-cropped hair.

_Females._

It didn't matter what culture or species they belonged to – they were all confusing. And, more often than not, more trouble than they were worth.

Tay seemed to sense that he was confused, but she didn't willingly shed any further light on the issue at hand. She just blushed a bit more and turned her back to Cody, abruptly changing the topic.

"You seem to have a lot of questions that are best, perhaps, to leave to Saa for answering. He's not as hard-line as he seems, you know," her nimble hands conducted the little tea ritual Cody was quickly beginning to associate with her; she glanced over her shoulder as her hands moved and she smiled almost hopefully. "He's really just a bit push-over, once you get to know him and all he really wants is another -"

She stopped in mid-sentence and her face flushed a bright red before she turned back toward the teacups. Cody raised an eyebrow in confusion - Tay seemed to be talking in nothing but riddles. He didn't know if it was really her, or if he was just too tired to process things properly.

She handed him his mug and he stared down at the swirling, steaming tea. He _really_ wanted a shot of stims. His brain felt like mush and he longed for a rush of drug-induced clarity. Maybe Tay wouldn't seem so unreadable, then. And, maybe, he wouldn't feel quite so stupid for not getting her half-spoken hints.

"At any rate, you should try to get to know him. He can tell you more about himself and, I suspect, more about yourself. More so, than I ever could," she turned toward him again and held her tea mug tightly in both hands.

Cody eyed her carefully - she looked exhausted. Lines had tightened around her mouth and her eyes, her shoulders weren't pulled back confidently like they usually were. She looked frail, and small, and humble; he fought the overpowering urge to hug her.

He wanted to hold her close. For what reason, he couldn't fathom; it was an irrational impulse and it made Cody uncomfortable. His eyes studied her face for a few more seconds and then his gaze fell on her small, full-lipped mouth.

_He wanted to __kiss__ her._

He wanted to hold her. Touch her. Kiss her. He wanted to feel close to something...someone... To anything, that wouldn't push him away in revulsion.

_"Just a worthless machine...!"_ echoed through his mind.

Cody winced physically and closed his eyes. Images of Belassa flashed through his mind.

No, intimacy wasn't for him. Not any more.

"Are you okay, Cody? Did I say something wrong?" her voice was soft and accompanied by an inquiring hand on his wrist.

"No," his eyes popped open and were instantly riveted on the delicate little hand resting against his skin. "I mean, no. You didn't say anything wrong. I'm fine."

He shifted a bit on his feet and took a sip of his tea, torn between stepping _away_ from her touch and stepping _into_ it. He longed for her to lift her hand, but at the same time, he hoped against all hope that she would keep her hand right where it was.

He stared down at his tea and sensed that Tay wasn't quite convinced by his denial. So, he shrugged and tried to throw her off the scent, as it was.

"I always got the impression Saa couldn't stand my guts. Don't think trying to buddy up to him would be a bright idea."

"Saa...is a complex individual," Tay sighed heavily; her hand continued to linger, warm, against his wrist. "But, he doesn't hate you or, even, really dislike you. He's protective. He's haunted by his own past. And he's a little too quick to judge. But, he has a good heart. And I think he could help you find some part of what you've lost."

"More like some part I never had," Cody felt suddenly bitter. "Or never will have."

He rememered Saa's words, as if they had just been uttered -

_"...As the gods bear witness, I'll make sure you find your soul."_

Cody was starting to feel that both Saa and Tay had set themselves up for the impossible. How could a man rediscover his soul, if he didn't even have one to begin with?

_"Just a worthless machine...!"  
_  
"Shhhh, Cody," her hand moved from his wrist, to brush up against the side of his temple. "Your thoughts are loud."

He looked at her suspiciously.

"So, you _can_ read thoughts!" he stated accusatorily.

"No," she replied patiently and let her hand fall back down to her side; Cody longed immediately for her touch. "But I can _feel_them. And yours are very strong. And..." she paused and bit her lip for a moment; his eyes lingered on her mouth. "Very painful."

Cody lowered his eyes and took a swig of his tea. He didn't have anything illuminating to say in his defense - he couldn't argue with what was true. Her ability to feel his emotions was unsettling, especially since it seemed that she was getting better at it, the longer they were around each other. But, he also couldn't hold it against her. She was a Jedi. It's just what they did.

And, it was starting to make him feel like her lack of eyes mattered less and less. She saw with greater clarity than most he'd ever encountered before, except perhaps for General Kenobi or Rex. He'd never met Grand Master Yoda, but she seemed even wiser than him, to Cody. If only, because she could read Cody almost as well as one of his own brothers, without even once needing to know what he looked like.

"You should finish your tea and go to bed," she prompted, gently.

Cody reacted automatically to her suggestion and took a large swig from his mug. After swallowing, he glanced down at her and quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this stuff you make me drink, anyway?" his tone was wry.

"This particular blend is made from valer root," she smiled, as if pleased by his curiosity. "It'll help you sleep."

"The sun's about to rise," he glanced over at one of the kitchen windows; the world outside was already starting to lighten up in shades of muted grey.

"It's going to storm; there won't be much sunlight today."

Her ability to just _know_ things amazed him. He stared at her and reflected that the number of things she could say to surprise him was dwindling rapidly.

"It's a good day to catch up on sleep - I think we all need it. Though, I will admit that I probably won't sleep much until Saa isn't in any danger of infection or relapse," she shrugged, as if sacrificing her sleep for the needs of a patient was no small cost. "Still, I'll catch sleep when I can. Saa is stable for now, so I might as well."

Cody wondered if she had lost sleep because of him, too. He turned his head in shame and stared out the window. He finished his tea with one more gulp and decided he didn't want to know. She'd already done so much for him, that he felt like scum for having put upon her. He didn't want to know the full extent of her sacrifices on his behalf; he felt bad enough as it was.

"I'll have to ask you to sleep on the couch for now, I'm afraid," she sounded truly apologetic.

She gently took his empty tea mug and set it down with hers in the nearby sink. The dishes clinked softly against each other as she set them down and for a moment, she stood with her hands on the counter, her face toward the window.

"I only have one other bedroom here, as well, and -"

"Saa gets the bed," Cody finished for her, matter-of-fact. "Understood."

"I have some blankets I can get for you out of -"

"Don't worry about it," Cody blurted out again; he felt bad for cutting her off, but she'd already done so much for him.

_Too_ much. He could get blankets without delaying her own sleep any further.

"If you tell me where to look, I can make up my own place to sleep," he tried to smile, but it broke along the corners of his mouth.

He hadn't smiled in a long time. It felt...strange.

"There's no need to do it for me," he added awkwardly; he was trying to reassure her, but had a feeling he was doing it all wrong. "You look like you're about to drop. You should go to sleep. I've slept in worse places than a couch before," he finished, feeling remarkably lame.

She seemed to sense what he was trying to say, though, and offered him a small smile.

"There's a linen closet in the hallway between the guest bedroom and the 'fresher. Just help yourself to whatever you like, the living room is just over there," she pointed toward a darker doorway to their left.

"Okay," Cody nodded and then added, "Thanks."

"You're not an imposition, Cody," Tay murmured softly as she turned and started walking past him toward the doorway at the opposite end of the kitchen.

She reached out as she passed him and her fingers brushed lingeringly across his arm.

"Sleep well."

"You, too," Cody replied after a long moment.

He watched her until she disappeared into the other part of the house. The memory of her touch lingered long after he'd heard the door of her bedroom close and for the longest time, Cody just stood in the middle of the empty kitchen and wrestled with what he was, what he had been, and what he hoped to become.


	7. Robot Boy2

_"You say you're not going to fight / Because no one will fight for you / And you think there's not enough love / And no one to give it to."_

**Linkin Park  
"Robot Boy"**

* * *

The next few weeks were the worst in Cody's memory. Worse than his formative years in the impersonal, emotionless training facilities of Tipoca City. Worse than the very worst of his experiences on the front lines of the Clone Wars. Worse, even, than his subsequent descent into the slums and bars of Anobis' mining capitol.

His cravings ate at him, consuming what felt like the very last of his sanity. As his cravings increased, so did his irritability, which he tried valiantly to suppress. For the first week and a half of his stay in Tay's home, Cody and his Jedi benefactress had little verbal interaction, since the majority of Tay's attention went to pulling Saa safely through the most critical moments of his recovery.

Cody ran odd jobs around the house for Tay, while she sat meditating at Saa's side. He even learned his way around the bewilderingly enormous kitchen and managed to burn a few meals, before Tay gave up and started taking time away from Saa to cook. He had been particularly frustrated by his apparent inability to make a decent meal, irregardless of the fact that fighting wars didn't lend itself to the proper development of culinary skills.

He prowled about the house and learned his way around the small abode. It only took a day or two, though, for his curiosity to be settled; there were two rooms, two freshers, a living room, a kitchen with an attached dining room nook, a small library, and a good-sized conservatory full of plants he couldn't even begin to name. After exhausting his knowledge of the house, he started eying the snowy fields outside the windows. But, after the incident with Jecks, Cody was reluctant to leave Tay and Saa alone in the house.

As he struggled to complete domestic chores and stay out of Tay's way, Cody grew restless. The longer he stayed clean, the more his old habits and personality began to resurface - he was bred to fight and the inability to fight was beginning to drive him just as crazy as his cravings.

Little things began to irk him - like the lack of firepower on his person. He became irritated with his civilian clothes and began wearing Del's old fatigues every day, out of sheer, Kaminoan-bred habit. He longed for his armor, if only to clean it. He longed for his weapons, if only to calibrate them. He longed for challenge, for conflict, for some sort of outlet for the rising aggression that was making him restless and moody.

As Saa finally began to heal from the worst of his wounds, Tay began to take notice of Cody's change in behavior. She confronted him in the living room one afternoon, as he stalked through the house for the hundredth time that day and invited him to join her in one of the hothouses nearest to the house.

Cody quickly learned that he wasn't cut out to be a farmer.

Or, even worse, a _gardener_.

But, physical activity was physical activity, and Tay put him to work cleaning out xoorzi and alazhi culture tanks for the new batch Tay was planning to cultivate in the spring. He felt strength and muscle starting to return into his arms and back, as he shoveled, pulled, lifted, carried, and scrubbed. It was menial work, though, and it didn't help his attitude - he was a fighting man and cleaning hothouses for spring planting was a far cry from battle.

The rise in his aggression was a two-edged sword. It sapped him of his energy, which left him craving stims. And it reinforced his fear that he was nothing better than a technologically advanced droid, which left him craving alcohol. The only advantage to working in the hothouses, was that it kept him away from Tay for most of the day and helped shake some of the weight and softness from his abused body.

Otherwise, it only reinforced a fierce cycle of self-loathing and craving.

As the weeks progressed, stims and whiskey became the least of his cravings. He craved caf. He craved crappy army food. He craved the adrenaline rush of battle. He craved the solidarity of brotherhood. He craved sweets. He craved the adventure of new horizons. He craved the boring lull of training sessions. He craved the safe anonymity of his helmet. He craved the feel of a blaster rifle in his hands. He craved sex.

The last craving motivated him to keep as far from Tay as possible - which was a pretty impossible achievement.

Everything about her confused him. Her kindness made him feel shame. Her calmness made him feel guilty. Her gentleness made him feel monstrous. Her smile made him feel hope. Her voice made him feel human. Her body made him feel lust.

And the longer he spent in her house, in her dead husband's borrowed clothes, the more Cody was unable to escape the reality of who she was. She was a Jedi - the very embodiment of those things that Cody had tried so hard to forget. Things like valor, honor, bravery, and honesty. She also represented every vivid memory of the blood he had shed in the name of the Empire.

She reminded him daily - even when she wasn't around him - of General Kenobi. Of General Skywalker. Of Commander Tano. Of Commander Offee. Of General Secura. Of General Undali.

Of all the countless Jedi Cody had met and fought alongside. Of all the countless Jedi Cody had hunted down and killed.

She had helped him earn a hard-won freedom from the clutches of stims and whiskey. But, in the absence of his addictions, Cody's body began to remember what it was -

A body built for battle, war, death, and bloodshed.

And, every day, a constant mantra echoed in the back of his mind -

_"Just a worthless machine...!"_

* * *

Things finally came to a boil when Saa got involved.

It started off as a quiet morning, the same as every other that had come before for three solid weeks. Cody sat on a stool, pulled up to the island counter that dominated the middle of the kitchen, dressed in nothing more than the black drawstring pants he wore to sleep in. He was eating a bowl of hot mashed grain, embellished with dried ersatz grapes, a touch of Yyegar sugar, and some Traladon milk, while watching Tay chop an assortment of root vegetables destined for a large slow-cooker to her left. Cody was absently marveling over Tay's ability to chop so finely without cutting off her fingers, when she lifted her head and turned her face toward the rounded alcove that lead to the living room.

Cody glanced over his shoulder just as Saa limped slowly into the kitchen, accompanied by a sharp query of disapproval from Tay.

"What are you doing out of bed?

"Woman, if I spend one more second laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I'll go stark ravin' mad," the older man grumbled as he hauled himself painfully onto the stool next to Cody.

Saa's tone was almost good-natured, however, and something like a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Tay seemed to realize that convincing Saa of much of anything was a wasted cause, made a noise of dissent deep in her throat and resumed the cutting of her vegetables. Cody noted, however, that her even strokes with the kitchen blade seemed suddenly aggressive in nature.

He quirked an eyebrow in mild curiosity at the rare show of annoyance, and continued eating his breakfast in silence.

"Smells good in here," Saa commented blithely, as if nothing unusual had just occurred.

He turned his head and eyed Cody's bowl with interest.

"I'll have what Dar'manda's havin'," he jerked his thumb toward Cody's bowl, even though Tay couldn't see.

"His name is '_Cody_'," Tay's tone was almost acidic, as her blade descended viciously on a particularly innocent tuber. "And if you're feeling well enough to climb out of bed, then you're feeling well enough to serve yourself."

"Hmph," Saa seemed rather unimpressed with the unexpected attitude he was receiving. "I'll call him by his name once he's earned the right. Until then, he's just 'Dar'manda.'"

Something ugly unfurled inside of Cody's chest; a rush of anger - raw and unexplainable - flushed the well-defined angles of his face.

"What does 'dar'manda' mean, exactly?" he finally joined the conversation, his voice unintentionally rough.

Saa's blatant refusal to use his name cut far too close to home. Since their creation in the cloning centers of Kamino, every clone trooper had fought a very personal war against the calculated depersonalization of their given sequence of letters and numbers. The right to a name was a hard-earned privilege - a privilege no clone ever felt the need to fight for a second time. The only thing that currently kept Saa from earning a fist to the face, was the fact that at least he chose to belittle Cody with a name of his own choosing. Though, Cody was almost certain that if the mercenary knew his clone number, he'd be back to being "CC-2224" instead of "just Dar'manda."

"'_Dar'manda_' is the state of not being Mandalorian," Saa answered matter-of-factly, either ignoring the dangerous pitch in Cody's voice or not recognizing it to begin with. "It's not a name for a foreigner - that's _aruetti_ - but a name for someone who should be Mando, but _isn't_," the older man looked Cody right in the eye, his own tone cutting. "It means you've lost your heritage and therefore, your identity. It means you're a man without a soul."

_"It means you're a man without a soul."_

_"You're nothing but a machine!"_

Something snapped inside of Cody. A primal rage - fed by his pent up aggression and unfulfilled cravings - burst into his blood stream and eradicated his better sense. He didn't even hear his spoon fall against the side of his glazed bowl and he didn't even register his abrupt slide off of his stool and onto his feet. All Cody knew was anger and he directed that anger bluntly at Saa.

Even Saa's poker face registered surprise, when Cody grabbed a fistful of the man's tunic and lifted him up off of his stool. The mercenary was a few inches shorter than Cody, but the former commander brought Saa's nose level with his own. Rage fueled his movements to the point where Cody didn't even feel the effort of lifting the heavier, more well-built man up to face-level.

"If you've already made up your mind about me, old man, then why even bother wasting your time?" some part of Cody's mind had expected himself to shout, but his tone was more of a harsh growl, barely audible beyond just him and Saa.

Tay was completely forgotten in the awful focus of the moment.

"I've killed machines that are stronger than you," Cody snarled, his words tangled with self-loathing. "So, maybe you're right. I don't have a soul. I wouldn't think twice about killing _you_. So, maybe that's all I'm good for."

He gave Saa good shake and he heard the other man's teeth click sharply against each other with the force of his movement.

"Do you have a blaster?"

The question seemed to startle Saa for a moment, but he managed to nod his head and answer in a steady voice -

"Yes. Always."

"Good," Cody abruptly let go of Saa's tunic and the mercenary just barely managed to catch his feet underneath him; he had to grab the counter to steady himself. "Then if I'm just a machine without a soul, do me a favor."

Saa seemed rattled and wary. He gripped the counter and struggled to get his wounded leg steady underneath him; Cody was struck by the poignancy of Saa's sudden show of humanity. It seemed to underscore his own lack of it.

"What's that, _ad'ika_?" Saa's tone was quiet; in his anger, Cody didn't even register his use of the Mando'a word for "son".

The clone clenched his fists and jutted out his jaw. He was suddenly torn between anger and despair.

"Just put me out of my misery."

There was a startled second of shock, before the silence of the kitchen was broken by a resounding "slap!". Cody's head was forced to take an abrupt turn to the left, before another resounding "crack!" whipped his head back to the right. Both of his cheeks stung sharply from two well-placed, open-handed hits.

Wide-eyed, Cody's anger abated in the face of sheer surprise. He gawked at Tay, speechless. Her face was flushed a bright, fierce red and her own anger seemed to radiant hotly off of her very being.

"_That _was for pushing around a wounded man _and_ for being a coward!" her soft voice shook with emotion; she lifted her arm abruptly and shook her flattened hand in his face.

Cody was reminded of his instructor's infamous "knife-hand", back on Kamino. He cringed out of sheer, ingrained reflex.

"There has been _entirely _too much death in this galaxy already. Don't you _dare_ invite yours as well!"

Tay's words were like cold water. Cody reared his head back and just stared at her hard for a long moment. Then, he turned abruptly on his heel and walked, stiff-legged, out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Saa's voice followed him through the living room.

Cody didn't reply. He simply made a beeline for the front door and stepped out into the snowy winter morning without a word. It didn't matter that he was half-dressed and barefoot.

He just wanted _out_.

* * *

He sought refuge in the only other place he knew - the hothouse where he'd been working for last few weeks. But, Cody's emotions were so frazzled and so scattered, that he merely fidgeted. For a few aimless minutes, he picked up his cleaning rag and tried to attack the scum caked into the bottom of the newest tank he'd started cleaning. But, that only made his frustration that much worse. Finally, he stood up, balled the filthy rag in his hand and threw it against the impassive glass panes of the hothouse wall.

Throwing something felt good, even if it was just a scrap of throw-away cloth. So, he kicked the bucket at his feet, sending it hurling down the long length of the hothouse aisle, between its two rows of raised plant beds and bacteria tanks. That felt good, too, even if it felt like he'd suddenly stubbed his toes in a door jam.

For a second, Cody stood still, his fists clenched at his side, as he stared at the bucket he'd kicked almost clear to the other end of the hothouse. He could see the shallow dent the side of his foot had left in its unoffensive side; anger began to well up inside of him again at the expression of his frustration. His chest heaved heavily and he felt burning hot, despite the biting chill against his bare skin.

Suddenly, he turned and drove his fist into the wooden post standing next to him. It was attached to a cross-section of the glass roof above and a corner of a plant bed below. Cody pounded his fist into it with a snarled cry and something inside of him broke.

All of his anger, all of his aggression, all of his hate and depression, poured out onto that wooden post. He beat it relentlessly with his fist and some unconscious part of his brain imagined it was his own face he was trying to destroy. Splinters tore the skin from his knuckles, but he didn't stop his brutal assault. It felt _good _to let the hatred burst out of him; it felt _good_ to let the poison inside of him rage against something that couldn't fight back.

With each hit, words rang in his ear -

_"You're a man without a soul."_

He hit the beam harder.

_"Just a worthless machine."_

His assault become almost methodical in its execution.

_"CC-2224."_

He couldn't register physical pain - only the pain that he'd bottled up for so long inside of him.

_"Dar'manda."_

Cody beat against the pole until his fist cracked and popped, until a sharp, teeth-clenching pain finally registered past the fog of negative emotions that had blocked his brain against anything else. His arm burned from muscles that hadn't been used in ages; his knuckles were bloody and starting to swell from several broken joints.

His knees buckled underneath him and he fell to the ground. He steadied himself against the pole with his uninjured hand and rested his forehead against the rough wood. His raw, bloody, broken hand rested gingerly against his thigh.

And flash after flash of memory swept through his mind.

Bellassa. Sarrish. Geonosis. Waxer. General Kenobi. Jaria.

Cody screamed. He no longer had anger or aggression. All that was left was what had built up underneath - despair, depression, loathing.

He screamed until his voice broke. And then he cried.

And when he didn't have any more tears, he just knelt there, half-naked in the cold, with his head against the pole.

And wished that he was dead.


	8. Robot Boy3

**Reference/Credit:** _This chapter makes mention of events/characters from __**Karen Traviss' **__**No Prisoners**__ novel. I don't own any of those ideas or peoples, of course. :) If you haven't read the book, keyword "__**Djinn Altis**__", "__**Athar**__", "__**JanFathal**__" and "__**No Prisoners**__" on __**wookiepeedia**__. Speaking of wookiepeedia, I also reference material from the __**Force sight**__ and __**Miraluka**__ articles._

* * *

_"And you're sure you've hurt for so long / You've got nothing left to lose / So, you say you're not going to fight / Because no one will fight for you."_

**Linkin Park  
"Robot Boy"**

* * *

Cody didn't know how much time had passed, before the door of the hothouse opened and closed quietly behind him. He knew without turning around, who had come for him.

He was too drained to feel shame or even any other emotion, when Tay put her hand - gentle as always - on his bare shoulder. This time, her fingers felt warm against his skin; her touch seemed to finally remind him of his surroundings and he began to shiver.

"You're freezing out here, Cody," her soft voice flowed smoothly over his raw, jangled nerves. "You should come back inside."

He just made a dissenting sort of noise in the back of his throat and shook his head. The cloth in Tay's skirt rustled softly as she bent down over him and he felt her body press gently against his back. He leaned unconsciously into her warmth and squeezed his eyes shut as her fingers drifted questioningly down his arm.

"You're hurt," her fingers curled around his bicep as she started tugging at him.

The tone of her voice shifted and Cody knew she was playing another Jedi mind trick on him. But, he was beyond the point of caring.

"You should come back inside with me."

He hesitated for a moment, but his mind wasn't even remotely strong enough to truly resist her influence. She pulled on his arm and he struggled to his feet with an effort born of exhaustion. If she noticed the dented bucket, or the discarded rag, or the bullied pole, she didn't say so. Instead, she tucked her arm against his and guided him silently out of the hothouse, back to the warmth of her humble home.

* * *

Cody thought she'd take him back to the kitchen, to confront Saa again, but instead, she guided him gently toward the plant-filled conservatory. He had explored it only briefly, before, and hadn't spent much time in it. Now, he was too emotionally drained to really look around, so he just let her guide him toward the middle of the round room and allowed her to push him gently down toward a thick rug and a pile of pillows.

He sat down in an ungraceful slump and she settled elegantly next to him, on her knees.

"Lay back," she instructed gently and placed a hand flat in the center of his chest.

In any other situation, Cody would have been flustered by the soft intimacy of her fingers as they half-consciously caressed the still-hard panes of muscle in the center of his torso. As it was, he barely registered her touch and just flopped back on several surprisingly comfortable ornamental pillows. Her fingers brushed gently against his skin, along the curve of his neck and down across his shoulder and arm, as if she were trying to sooth an anxious animal. Cody just lay in emotionless resignation and stared at the gray winter sky beyond the round glass ceiling.

"Saa!" Tay lifted her voice and shouted in the direction of the kitchen.

A slow, heavy tread tracked Saa's labored movement through the living room. His voice was loud in the quiet conservatory, but Cody kept staring up at the sky, refusing to look anywhere else.

"Yes, _ad'ika_?"

It took Cody a moment to remember that Mando'a was a gender-neutral language. "Ad'ika" meant both son _and_ daughter, _and_ had several affectionate meanings, based on context. It was what made the stang language so tricky to learn and why he hadn't really been able to grasp much of it during his time in commander training.

"Can you bring me my medkit?" Tay's hand continued to pet the length of Cody's injured arm.

"What'd he do?" Saa lingered in a moment of concerned curiosity.

"Don't worry about it, right now," Cody watched out of the corner of his eye as Tay shook her head. "Just bring me the medkit, please."

"Sure," Saa left without any more questions and the room fell silent again.

Tay removed her hand from Cody's arm and moved quietly about on his left. Cody turned his head, just as she pulled a thick, dark-green throw up over his naked chest. She reached down across him and tucked the edges of the throw around his bare feet as well, enveloping him a warm cocoon of some sort of soft, furry fabric.

"I'm sorry for hitting you," she stopped fussing over him for a moment and rested her hand gently against his left cheek. "I shouldn't have."

"Don't worry," Cody couldn't quite look her in the face; he stared, in stead, at his covered feet. "I deserved it."

There was a pause, during which Tay picked up Cody's injured hand and touched it lightly with her fingers. Even the faintest of pressure on his broken knuckles caused the clone to rearrange his features in a silent grimace. He tried not to flinch and turned his gaze back up at the sky above.

"Why do you always think that you deserve the worst, Cody?" Tay's question was so softly spoken, Cody almost didn't catch it.

For a long time, he was silent. For a moment or two, he even wondered if he could ignore the question all together. It was too personal for him to answer immediately; he wondered if Tay even knew how deeply her question lanced. It was hard to tell with her, sometimes. She had such a piercing insight into the nature of things, though, that he rather doubted that her question had been as innocent as it sounded.

Saa came back into the conservatory while Cody pondered how to approach the metaphorical mine field that demanded an answer. The merc murmured something to Tay, but Cody was only half-listening; he kept his eyes on the skies above.

Snow was beginning to fall. Mydwydth was on a higher latitude than the capitol city and snow fell almost daily from the very end of fall to the very beginning of spring. In the height of winter - where they were, now - Tay had told Cody that blizzards weren't infrequent. It wasn't uncommon to be buried underneath several feet of snow in the darker winter months.

Cody had never really been around snow before - not like this, anyway. He watched, almost fascinated, as the panes of the conservatory ceiling began to frost over with a million tiny snowflakes. It was a strangely calming sight and the soft greyness of the skies seemed to fit the feeling in his heart.

It was a few minutes before his attention drifted back to Tay. Saa had left; Cody turned his head and didn't see any sign of the merc in the room. With almost timid reluctance, the clone looked up into Tay's face as she bent over his hand.

Her expression was one of passive concentration, as she unrolled a length of sterile bandage. She had placed his hand in her lap and the heel of his palm rested against her right thigh. She turned her face toward him and Cody wondered absently what color of eyes she might have had, if she hadn't been Miraluka.

He imagined blue eyes - bright, clear blue eyes. Like Commander Tano's, except a little darker, perhaps. But, as he lay with his head against the pillows and considered Tay's small, round-cheeked face, Cody realized that she wouldn't be the same if she had eyes. In some ways, he thought that perhaps her perceptions were so sharp, _because_ she couldn't see. If she had eyes, perhaps she'd more blind to truth than he was.

She set down the section of unrolled bandage neatly on top of the kit open by her side. She gently lifted his hand in both of hers; his knuckles were so bruised and broken, that his hand was still curled into an uncomfortable fist.

"This is going to hurt," her soft voice was so gentle that he didn't quite catch the full emphasis of what she said, until she abruptly took his hand between hers and pulled his fingers out of their crippled curl.

Despite her warning, Cody was still caught off-guard. He managed to cut short a shout of pain and bit his lip instead. He tasted blood almost instantly against his tongue and a white, blinding light of pain arched across his fractured senses.

"Fierfek!" he swore with considerable conviction.

He panted hard, as she took her left hand and let it hover over his fingers.

"You've broken two fingers, but the rest are just bruised. You broke a lot of skin, though," she said, as if explaining his injuries would lessen the pain.

Something warm, like the sensation of gently flowing water, flowed through his middle and index fingers. Sharp pain accompanied what he knew was the signature "feel" of Jedi healing - General Kenobi had reset countless broken bones enough times for Cody to recognize what Tay was doing. He gritted his teeth and wiped the blood of off his bottom lip with his one good hand, until she was satisfied with her work and set his hand back down against her thigh.

"The bones are knit back together, but I wouldn't use this hand for at least a week," she lifted her face toward the sound of limping feet.

Saa appeared in the doorway, carrying a shallow bowl full of steaming water. He shuffled into the room without a word and handed the bowl carefully to Tay, who in turn, set it down on the floor next to her medkit.

"Thank you, Saa," she murmured as he handed her the washcloth and towel he'd draped over his arm.

"No problem," he rasped and he glanced toward Cody.

The expression on Saa's face was hard to read, but it wasn't one of his usual disinterested superiority. He seemed almost...concerned.

Cody just blinked up at the Mandalorian merc, wary.

"_Nu jurkad Mando'ade, ad'ika_," Saa tipped his head in Cody's direction, turned around, and then limped back out of the conservatory.

Cody stared after him for a moment, before turning his attention back to Tay.

"What did he say?"

"Hmmm," she pursed her lips as she soaked the washcloth into the steaming water next to her. "I don't think it has any direct translation, but it's meant as a reassurance. It basically means, 'steady, son'."

The former commander snorted a bit under his breath.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think Saa was trying to be nice," the words just slipped out. "I thought he hated my guts."

Tay was quiet for a long moment and Cody frowned a bit as he tried to search her face. She turned her head, though, and tilted it a bit to the side, as she finished wringing water out of the washcloth in her hands.

"I think the only person who truly hates your guts, Cody, is _you_."

Her words stung more than the hot cloth that she pressed against his blood-cracked knuckles. Silence muffled the conservatory, like the still before snow began to fall. Cody just watched numbly, as Tay patiently dabbed away the blood that had crusted along the torn edges of his hand. Her words resounded deeply inside of him and the longer he turned them over in his mind, the harder it was for him to stay silent.

Finally, the dam inside of him broke. It didn't give way with a flood of tears or emotion. Cody simply started talking and couldn't stop.

* * *

For a minute or two, he floundered verbally, uncertain of where to start. He told her a little bit about his command in the Wars and a little bit about the men under his command. He mentioned a few brothers - Waxer, Boil, Rex, Fox. But then he fell silent, abruptly. And his next words were more certain and spoken in a tone of flat resignation.

It didn't matter any more what she would think of him. He simply needed to get the truth _out_.

"I watched my troops beat a woman, at Bellassa," Cody turned his head away from Tay and fixed his gaze at the snow-filled ceiling. "This was after Order 66. She wasn't a Jedi or anything. But, we 'suspected' that she had provided shelter and aid to Jedi Knight Ferus Olin. We were operating under Order 37 - I was in command. Of all of them.

"We rounded up every last civilian - old men, young children, women. It didn't matter. We only got a handful of resistance; most of their fighting-age men had died in the Wars. We killed those who resisted; they were mostly young boys."

Cody didn't care if he was making much sense or if he was even telling the story in sequence. It wasn't so much of a story to him, anyway. It was a confession.

Tay just sat silently at his side and washed his wounds.

"We took at least half of the population hostage, with orders to kill them and to burn the bodies, if they didn't hand over Olin. Someone - I don't really know who - identified this one middle-aged woman as the one who had hid him. She had a little boy. One of my troops pulled him from her arms and shot him."

He saw Tay flinch out of the corner of his eye.

_"Even Jedi have a soft spot for children_," he remembered something Kenobi had once said. _"They're the future of our galaxy and to be guarded as such."_

"I watched the boy die. I watched them beat her. I turned my back when they started raping her," Cody's voice was dead, emotionless.

He'd left all his emotions at the bottom of the beam in Tay's hothouse. Now, for better or for worse, he was telling her the ugly truth of what he was. There was no room for emotion - just cold fact.

"I heard, though," he squeezed his eyes shut and wished that he could block out the sound of her screams.

Even now, almost a year later, he could hear her begging, and screaming, and pleading, as if it was still going on right behind him.

He often felt like she was always there. Right behind him.

"They _all_ raped her, I think. She pleaded with them - with _me_ - as much as she could. Asked for justice. Asked why. Screamed. A lot. In the end, I just stood outside the door of her house and let them shoot her."

He stopped for a second, not sure of what to say. Soft, feminine fingers began to brush along his cheek and he jerked his head violently away from her touch.

"I don't deserve _anything_," his voice cracked under the strain of reigning in his emotions. "_Nothing_. No kindness. No grace. No mercy. I'm no better than a machine!"

Silence, again. And then Tay's voice broke through his defenses, gentle as ever in its assault.

"Droids don't cry, Cody," fingers brushed against his cheek again and left tracks of broken moisture against his skin.

Cody suddenly realized his body was shaking - with tears, with suppressed emotion, he couldn't tell. But tears coursed down his cheeks, unbidden. And for the first time in his life, he shared the supreme essence of his humanity with another living being.

* * *

She finished cleaning the blood off of his hand, as his tears finally dried. Cody fell silent again and digested her words carefully.

_"Droids don't cry."_

She seemed so _certain_ of what she knew.

And, in the face of that certainty, Cody was finally beginning to draw hope. It wasn't a lot of hope - just a tiny seed's worth. But, it was enough.

He had told her about Bellassa, in his own bold, blunt, raw words. And she hadn't left him. She hadn't condemned him. She hadn't done anything except continue to accept him as he was - broken, conflicted, torn, and fallen.

So, he told her about Jaria, while Tay put bacta gel on his wounds and wrapped his hand from palm to fingertips. About how he'd fallen in love with her. About how she'd been the daughter of a Bellassan farmer, who had found a way to get out of her bucolic life by way of the Republic Navy. About how he'd come to trust her. About how she'd cheated on him with other men - other _brothers_. About how she didn't seem to understand, in the end, how she'd done anything wrong. About how she'd told him that "they were all the same, so what's the difference?"

He told her about losing his men. About watching his brothers die. About having to struggle with what to do with the effects that were left behind. About how they had no families to mourn their memory - just brothers, like him.

He told her about the injustices that he had seen throughout the War, often executed in the name of the Republic, or in the name of honor, or in the name of what one person thought was right. About how no one seemed to care about a million or more men who had no rights whatsoever, who were expected just to fight and nothing more. About how there were Jedi who didn't seem to care if they were used or not. About Jedi who seemed conflicted, but didn't know how to change. About Jedi who learned to become their friends and even, in some cases, lovers.

But, who, in the end, were all lumped together as "the _other_." As commanders. As generals. As masters. As something above them.

And then, as traitors. As something beneath them.

"I guess, by the end of it all, I stopped having faith in anyone or anything else," Cody stared down at his freshly bandaged hand.

Tay's response was achingly perceptive.

"It sounds like, by the end of it all, you stopped having faith even in yourself."

* * *

"Why do you waste your time on me?"

It was a long time before Cody could speak again. During that time of silence, Tay had laid aside her medkit and had laid down next to him on the pillows and the rug. She curled up against his side and held his injured fingers gently in one hand and put her other hand on his shoulder. They lay like that for a long time, their bodies gently touching.

It was sublime, her closeness. It wasn't a sexual thing to Cody - at this moment, it simply satisfied a primal need to _touch_ that he had never known he'd had. He had tried to pull away from her at first, but she wouldn't let him. She just scooted that much closer to him and held his hand that much tighter. She made soft noises in the back of her throat, like humming. It was a soothing sound, accompanied by the soothing sensation of her fingers drifting gently across his chest from time to time.

It was intimate - far more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced before. Even with Jaria. A part of him wondered if they should really be lying like this together - did they know each other well enough for this?

A bigger part of him didn't give a damn. _He wasn't alone._

"My old Master would say that time spent on someone else, was _never_ wasted," Tay answered, her voice mellow and calm. "Though, I suppose, to answer your question more directly, I do what I do because that's simply who I _am_."

She shrugged and tilted her face toward his. Cody glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye; now that his tears had finally run dry, he just lay there, feeling wrung out and worn from the complex array of emotions that he had expressed in just a few short hours.

"Compassion is one of the greatest virtues a Jedi can possess. My Master would have argued that it is a virtue _all_ Jedi should posses, though it is unfortunately true that there were those who didn't."

"Who was your Master?" he asked out of idle curiosity.

Her answer surprised him.

"Djinn Altis."

"The 'maverick Jedi'?" Cody blinked in surprise.

He had thought it and had even suspected it, in passing. But, it was still a little surprising to be presented with the confirmation of a random hunch.

"Well...that's one name for him, yes," Tay tilted her head to the side and frowned a little bit. "How do you know about Master Altis?"

"One of my brothers ran into him, during a mission on the _Leveler_. I think it was during the second year of the War?" Cody glanced up at the sky and tried to remember.

"Oh, yes. The _Leveler_ incident," Tay sounded quiet solemn all of a sudden. "I heard about that, too, from my friend Callista Ming. She was there for the extraction out of Athar and the battle in JanFathal's orbit."

The somber tone melted away in a quiet chuckle.

"It's a small galaxy sometimes, isn't it?"

"I guess so," it was Cody's turn to shrug. "I just remember Rex being all out of sorts about it. It got _everyone_ out of sorts, really," he frowned, slightly. "I got the impression your Master wasn't well-liked by the other Jedi."

"I don't think it was an issue of 'like' or 'dislike', so much as it was an ideological difference between my Master and Grand Master Yoda," Tay sighed softly. "But, I don't think that's neither here nor there, really."

He knew what she was trying to say - "_some other time, perhaps_." So, he stifled his curiosity and was slightly distracted by the abstract design Tay was tracing absently with a finger along the flat planes of his right pectoral.

"I told you about Bellassa," he grabbed her distracting fingers in his hand and forced himself to look her in the face. "How can you do this?"

He wanted to say "how can you touch me", but he meant much more than even that. How could she show compassion? How could she lay next to him, as if what he had done meant nothing? How could she talk to him?

"Master Altis told me once that I have the rare gift to see beyond what a person _is_ and see them for what they could _become_," Tay's words held no ego, her face no sign of duplicity.

"What could you _possibly_ see in me?" Cody was torn between awe and disbelief.

"You were good man, Cody," Tay pulled her hand gently from his grasp and propped herself up on her elbow.

If she had eyes, they would have been locked onto his at this moment. As it was, Cody still felt the force of her countenance. She didn't need eyes to see him; he didn't need eyes to know that all her focus was on him.

"And you still are," she reached out with her other hand and touched his cheek.

"I'm not...the 'Dark Side'?" he tried to soften the rawness of his words with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Not at all," she answered soberly, her head tilted to the side. "You would have a much different feel in the Force, if you were. You were Dark, yes, especially when you were stoked up on alcohol and stims. But, you've become clearer in the Force in the last few weeks - truer to who you were, once. And even in the very worst depths of your addiction, in the bar when I found you, you still had the air of a good man who'd lost his way. I could still see goodness in you."

"_How_?" he marveled at her, so foreign from anything he'd ever imagined.

"I can't put it into words," she shook her head slowly; the expression on her face said that she wished she could, though. "But, you have greatness about you. The Force has a great purpose meant for you, even if you don't see it for yourself right now or even understand how it could be so. But, you're not a machine, Cody. And you're not evil.

"Evil men don't tear themselves to pieces because of guilt.

"And droids don't cry."

She faced him for a long moment and started chewing her bottom lip, as if thinking hard about something she wasn't quite ready to admit just yet. It was an unconscious act and Cody found it oddly endearing.

"May I ask something of you, Cody?"

"Sure," he answered immediately, willingly.

She'd done so much for him. Too much, really. He'd give her anything she ever wanted. He knew that in the deepest fibers of his being, even if he wouldn't ever admit it out loud.

"May I touch your face?" she seemed almost shy, and a blush bloomed across her nose and cheeks.

Cody looked at her, surprised. It wasn't what he was expecting and at first, he was confused. But, she had asked and he wasn't going to say "no."

"Sure," he shrugged, in an attempt to play off his confusion.

She sensed it, anyway.

"I can see things in the Force, but it's still just shapes," she explained softly as her fingers traced the lines of his jaw.

Her movements weren't as tentative and searching as they had been before. A little furrow of concentration tightened her forehead just above her gold headband. Her fingers were firm as they mapped the high, strong bones of his cheeks and the broad arc of his forehead.

"We can't distinguish colors, as we have no words for them. But other beings who use Force Sight, who have eyes, have been able to determine that we see in ranges and mixtures of black and white."

Cody closed his own eyes as her fingertips grew softer and gently traced the curve of his eyes. They lingered against his lashes and she sighed softly before continuing her explanation.

"We can distinguish organics by their auras - every living thing has it's own unique perception in the Force. It's hard to explain, since we can't see colors like a lot of other Force users, but no one being is ever exactly the same. In the Force, nothing is _ever_ identical."

"You said I was like your husband, though," Cody frowned a bit as a finger moved down the length of his nose.

"_'Like_' Del, yes," Tay admitted without embarrassment. "But not the _same_. I don't know how to describe it, really. But it's how you're presented in the Force - Del was very strong and bold, in a certain way that set him apart from others. He had a depth to him, too, a sort of vulnerability that only the Force could show. You have that, too, about you. But, once again, neither of you are identical. If Del was alive, I'd be able to tell you both apart quite easily."

"Oh," Cody unconsciously turned his face into her hand as she flattened her palm against his cheek.

"You're a handsome man, Cody," she admitted after a moment of quiet contemplation.

Her fingers traced the curve of his lips. The clone - not used to such intimate contact, _ever_ - tried not to blush under the feel of her skin against his. He failed, miserably.

He had also never been told he was handsome. Not once. Not even by Jaria. He'd never really thought of it, truth be told.

"I'm just like a million others," he said, almost bitterly, in an attempt to dodge the uncomfortable feelings that Tay was evoking.

He almost added, "even your husband", but decided that maybe stating the obvious wasn't polite in the circumstance. He also almost added "like machines, really," but decided it probably wasn't best to throw that out there, either.

Tay's hand stilled for a moment, as she began running her fingers through his hair and against his ear.

"But, you're _nothing_ like a machine," she sensed his thoughts, yet again.

Cody squirmed against her hand - was he really that transparent?

"Hard not to think that, when all you're programmed for is fighting and obeying orders. Or when you look the same as everyone else, in _and_ out of armor. Not all that different from droids, when you think about it. Stang," he laughed, truly bitter this time. "We didn't even have the courtesy of being _born_. We were _engineered_. In glass vats, practically. Not much different than a droid assembly line. The Kaminoans just specialized in 'wets' versus 'tinnies'.

"The methods of creation and training were different. But, not by much," he shrugged, suddenly indifferent.

He couldn't outrun what he was. Not anymore. In the end, did it really matter? Tay claimed he was a man, and perhaps he was, organically speaking. But otherwise?

"A _droid_ would have done what I did at Bellassa. Not a man," he finally uttered the one thing that ate at him for a whole year, until there was barely anything left of his confidence and heart.

"I hate to disappoint you, but I know many men who have done that. Or, worse," Tay spoke bluntly.

Her fingers continued to explore the curve of his head; her nails scraped pleasantly against his skull as she ran her fingers through his thick, short-cropped hair.

"I know some who would have participated."

''All that is necessary for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing,'" Cody quoted something he'd heard General Windu say once to young Tano. "I did _nothing_."

"You made a mistake. A grave mistake - one that you have every right to be ashamed of; one that I hope you never forget. But, it's not a mistake that denies your humanity."

"How can you even say that?" Cody shook his head, ashamed of the interest she had taken in him, ashamed of the quiet intimacy of her touch.

"You're here, Cody, in my home, on this rug, in this room, with a broken hand, _because you've never once stopped punishing yourself_," Tay spoke with a greater passion than any Cody had ever heard before; his eyes widened a bit as he stared up at her slightly-flushed face. "You've punished yourself by deserting your brotherhood. You've punished yourself with stims and alcohol. You've tried to kill yourself by picking fights with Saa's bouncers. You've begged for death. You've even taken out your pain on inanimate objects, to the point of injuring yourself.

"These are _not_ the actions of a man who's lost his humanity. Not in the least."

He just stared at her, nonplussed. He'd never imagined that anyone would ever see past the things he'd done - to others and to himself - and see what he was trying so hard to find again.

"The Force around you cries out for help, for a second chance," Tay tilted her head to the side, again. "You're not a lost cause and you're not a machine."

She laid her hand flat against the center of his chest. Her skin was warm against his.

"You have a lot of heart, Cody. I can feel it."

The words slipped out before he could stop them -

"I _can't_."

At first, Tay didn't say anything at all. She seemed suddenly thoughtful and her hands stopped moving across his chest and shoulder. After a long minute, she spoke slowly -

"What if I showed you, Cody?"

"Showed me?" he blinked, not quite sure of what she meant.

"Here," she tugged at his shoulders and encouraged him to sit up. "Cross your legs, like this," she sat up as well and demonstrated.

Cody recognized the stance almost immediately - it was the cross-legged pose he'd seen General Kenobi take on numerous occasions.

"Meditation?" he asked dubiously. "I thought that was just a Jedi thing."

"Oh, not at all," Tay laughed, her tone suddenly bright and almost playful. "We Jedi just happen to be really good at it. But, it's quite a universal skill - anyone can do it, Force sensitive or not."

The former commander wasn't sure he believed her. Not that he didn't trust her, but he thought maybe she was mistaken in her positive assumptions. And even if other sentient beings could meditate, it didn't necessarily mean a _clone_ could. He'd certainly never heard of such a thing.

But, he kept his doubts to himself and humored her. He felt that he owed her a try, at least, no matter how outlandish it seemed to him.

"Okay," he shrugged and crossed his legs slowly.

"Now, put your hands like so, palms up, on your thighs," she sat next to him, their hips practically touching. "And roll your shoulders back. Let that tension go."

He rolled his shoulders back, like she said, but all that happened was that he sat a little straighter, as if he were at a seated parade rest. She pursed her lips and shook her head, but there was a smile tugging along the corners of her mouth.

"Not exactly, but I suppose that'll have to do for now."

He didn't know how she could tell that he was doing it wrong, but maybe she could sense his discomfort through the Force. He felt very much out of his element, but he mimicked her pose as best as he could and tried to put his best foot forward, as it were.

"Now, take a deep breath and close your eyes," she took a breath with him; Cody let his chest expand and then compress as he exhaled and inhaled. "Keep that up - about five or six good breaths."

Her voice had dropped an octave, back to the softness he was used to; he thought of it as her 'medical voice', the one she adopted when she was healing. He heard her move and shift from next to him to behind him; his eyes fluttered open for a second, but a disapproving click of her tongue made him close his eyes again.

"Just breath," she said softly, as she put her hands gently on his shoulders.

Cody did his best to comply. For several minutes they just sat there; Tay shifted a bit more and pressed her chest against his back. Cody nearly lost his concentration at first, but then he realized she'd done that, to help him match his breathing rhythm to hers. As they breathed together, Cody felt some of the tension in his neck and shoulders abate; her chest was warm against his back and there was something innately comforting about having her softness pressed against him. Her arms wrapped around his arms and her hands pressed against his chest, holding him against her.

As they breathed, Cody's mind began to wander among aimless thoughts about not much of anything in particular. He was startled a bit, when she spoke again, her lips close to his ear.

"Focus inward," she instructed and pressed one of her hands harder against his skin. "Feel your heart. Listen to it."

The ex-commander felt more than a little bit ridiculous, but he tried to do as she asked. Nothing; all he heard was breathing.

"Put your hand over mine," Tay urged gently.

He lifted his hand and placed it over hers; through her fingers, he could feel his heart, beating strong and steady.

"That's your heart, Cody," she whispered, her words sliding over him like warm water. "Can you feel it?"

"Yes," he answered slowly, not sure if she meant that rhetorically or not.

"Just feel it," something more than her words wrapped around him, warm and protective.

It wasn't something he'd ever felt before, but he didn't fight it. It felt like Tay and he figured it was just another Jedi trick. It was softer than a mind trick, though, and he felt it more deeply. It comforted him, as nothing else ever had.

"That's your heart, Cody. Yours."

His heart beat steady and Cody realized that his breathing was slowing down, to match the rhythm he felt beneath their fingers.

"Machines don't have a heart, Cody," her words soothed and healed.

His heart beat, steady. It was a reality that spoke more eloquently than anything else she could have said or done, to change him.

His mind flashed back to the hallucination that still seemed so real to him. Of his cut-off arm, full of sparks and wires.

"Your heart pumps blood," her ability to know what he was thinking no longer surprised him. "To build bone, feed muscle, repair sinew. Your blood carries _life_ and your heart is the center of that."

He could almost imagine the sound of his heart - it was rhythmic, but not in the manner of a machine. It was organic - alive and steady.

"Machines don't have life," her words were softer than a touch. "They don't have hearts."

But, he did. He had blood, and bone, and skin. He had a heart; he could feel it beating underneath her hand, underneath his own, underneath his skin.

He wasn't a machine.

And, for the first time, Cody felt his heart and knew, without question, that it was there.

Tay's voice drifted like a ghost against his conscious.

"It's always been there, Cody. And it will _always_ be there."


	9. Jornada Del Muerto1

_"Lift me up, let me go."_

**Linkin Park  
"Jornada Del Muerto"**

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* * *

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Meditation became a daily ritual for Cody and Tay. As the days slipped by into weeks, she moved from sitting behind him and helping him breath, to sitting beside him and enjoying the shared silence together. Cody began to get the general concept behind meditation and learned how to "go under" on his own, without Tay's verbal guidance or physical help. As the weeks started counting up into a month, Cody began to almost crave the stillness he found during that lone hour spent in the conservatory next to Tay.

It became a constant for him - something for him to focus his day around, instead of stims or alcohol. Tay also began to teach him various poses for meditation - to Cody's surprise, not all meditative poses had to be done sitting with his back straight and his hands on his knees. As time progressed, she began to teach him a series of poses all strung together into something of a meditative form. In addition to helping with his meditative focus, the various poses helped stretch out his stiff muscles and began to tone his body back into shape.

Cody enjoyed it, though he wondered about the wisdom of sharing this peculiar mix of meditation and exercise with someone of the opposite gender. The two most awkward poses seem to be Tay's favorites, and Cody very quickly learned to situate himself _next_ to Tay during their meditations and not_ behind_ her.

The first pose began innocently enough, in a modified push-up position, with the back straight and level with the rest of the body. From there, Tay taught Cody to lift his backside into the air and drop his head between his shoulders, so that it rested between his biceps. That wouldn't have been so bad by itself, except then she expected him to drop his back and stomach down toward the floor and lift his head toward the ceiling. This was apparently supposed to be done three or four times in smooth succession, as a way to stretch the back.

The starting position was called "Table", the second position was called "Downward Dog" and the final position was called "Felinx." Cody quickly decided what he thought of the series as a whole.

"I don't know about you," he grunted one evening as they arched their backs upward; Cody had learned by now to keep his eyes firmly focused on the rug underneath them.

"Hmmm?" Tay seemed a bit surprised by his break in meditative silence, but she didn't discourage him.

"I feel like a humping nerf," the clone rendered his pithy observation as they both moved into "Felinx" position.

Tay started giggling so hard that she ended up losing her balance and knocking into him. The two of them landed on their backs on the conservatory rug, in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

That was the first time Cody had laughed in over a year.

That was also when he decided that he enjoyed spending time with Tay. Even if it was spent doing "crazy Jedi stuff".

* * *

Saa, however, was another matter all together. The two men kept a wary eye on each other and maintained a civil - if strained - interaction with each other. What that meant, mostly, was that Cody kept his mouth shut around Saa and that Saa basically ignored him. Avoiding each other during the day wasn't hard, since Tay put Cody to work in the hot houses and Saa puttered around the house. Tay alternated her time between the two, helping Cody from time to time in the hothouses and helping Saa with more domestic chores around the home.

The only time the two men really interacted each other was at meals or in the evening, when Tay liked to sit in front of the living room fire and listen to audio holobooks. At that time, Saa would usually sit in a chair by the fire and carve small figurines; Cody was fascinated by the metal knife the merc owned and by the work he crafted with nothing more than that metal knife and a block of wood. Cody would usually alternate between studying Saa's craftsmanship and flipping through the holonet on a datapad. If there was ever conversation, it was usually between Tay and Saa; except in one-on-one conversations with Tay, Cody tended not to talk.

A lot of the time, the clone wouldn't talk, because he was too busy studying Tay or trying to follow topics of conversation he knew nothing about. The older merc and the exiled Jedi often talked about a wide range of things - everything from the news they heard on the HNN, to what crops were best to grow once the planting season started, to news relayed by Hella on clan happenings around the galaxy.

Cody was especially fascinated by the tidbits of information he gleaned about Saa's clan. From what he could gather, Clan Par'jain was scattered throughout the galaxy, but focused mostly along the Outer Rim, beyond Anobis, in places like Tatooine and Saleucami. The information exchanged between Tay and Saa was mostly mundane, centering around the personal lives of people Cody didn't know. But, he did glean one interesting fact from that bit alone -

Clan Par'jain seemed to be mostly _female_. From what little Cody had been able to glean about Mando culture from his commander training and in-the-field interactions with ARCs and other assorted special forces troopers, most Mando clans were patriarchal. The sharp-eared commander was quietly fascinated to learn that Saa's clan seemed predominantly _matriarchal_ - a fact that seemed reinforced by Hella's apparent status as the next clan leader.

Cody wondered silently if females were simply the preference of Clan Par'jain, or if the peculiar lack of of-age males had a deeper meaning. He tried to ask Tay about it once, when she came to help him clean plant beds in one of the twelve hothouses dotted around her farm, but she simply told him that that was "a story best told by Saa."

Since Saa didn't seem much interested in interacting with Cody and Cody wasn't much interested in being provoked by the merc's blunt verbal hostility, the question got dropped. But, Cody kept his ear out and wondered privately about Clan Par'jain and the peculiar history of its "_alor_", or chieftain.

The uneasy truce between Cody and Saa lasted for about two weeks. Until one morning, when Tay breezed through the kitchen and announced her intentions of honoring a house call.

"Not by yourself, you're not," Saa spoke up before Cody could.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," Tay calmly wrapped a thick purple scarf around her neck.

"I don't think -" Cody started, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I've been called to help deliver a baby and unless you want to be chased out of the house by several Zabrak matrons or recruited to clean up afterbirth, I'd suggest the two of you males stay put."

"Given those two choices, I think I'd rather clean up afterbirth," Saa wrinkled up his nose in disgust.

He glanced at Cody, for once; the clone just shrugged as if to say "it can't be that bad." Saa snorted wryly.

"I've had to help give birth to a child before," the merc grimaced. "Trust me, _ad'ika_, it's not pretty. Not to mention, it'll make you look at females in a whole new way."

He eyeballed Cody critically.

"If you've never enjoyed the pleasures of female company before, I wouldn't recommend it. It'll scar you for life. And if you _have_ enjoyed the pleasures of female company, I_ still_ wouldn't recommend it. It'll scar you for life."

Tay started to laugh as she reached around Cody and grabbed a blumfruit off of his plate.

"What will_ literally_ scar you for life, is getting on the wrong end of a Zabrak female," she turned her face up toward Cody for a moment, as she smiled and took a bite of fruit.

Cody immediately fixated on the juice that stained her lips a brighter red and on the little tip of tongue that wiped them clean.

"You keep bringing up the Zabrak. Who's having a baby?" Saa cut through Cody's baser thoughts.

"Loka Dur," Tay stepped away from Cody, oblivious to his sudden fascination in watching her eat.

"Hmph," Saa seemed to back down a bit. "On second thought, no. I don't think we'll go with you."

"Wise choice," Tay laughed; she turned her face toward Cody, who had opened his mouth to start protesting the concession. "The Zabrak don't believe men should ever be present for the birth of a child. It's an honor that they're even asking me to come - they don't usually allow others from outside their race to intrude. Even if you two came with me, you'd be chased from the premises. You both might as well stay here and stay warm."

She patted Cody's arm, as if to reassure him. Her hand lingered a little longer than it needed to on his naked arm. He could feel the tips of his ears coloring slightly when her fingers drifted across his skin as she finally removed her hand.

"I'll be fine. I have a comlink on me," she lifted her arm to show them; Cody recognized the model from the countless many he'd used during the Wars.

He wondered where she'd gotten it from.

_From Saa or Del, most likely,_ he glanced at the merc and then back at her.

"They live on the other side of my farm, to the east," she pointed toward the kitchen window and the fields beyond. "And I'll be back by dinner."

"We'll be here," Saa grumbled.

He didn't seem happy about letting her go unescorted, but he also seemed to understand that arguing with Tay would get him nowhere. Cody just sat on his stool and tried not to sigh in frustration.

Tay could be a remarkably headstrong woman when she wanted.

"Please refrain from killing or maiming each other while I'm gone," she shot over her shoulder as she moved toward the front door. "I'm getting tired of patching the two of you up!"

With that, she breezed out of the kitchen and several seconds later, the two heard the front door open and close. Cody turned back to his plate and focused his frustration on several innocent blumfruit. It was the first time Tay had been outside of the house since they'd arrived and the idea of letting her wander about beyond the borders of her property, made him uneasy.

It seemed to make Saa uneasy as well. Several cabinets opened and then slammed shut, followed by a string of muttered Mando'a curses, as the merc seemed to be looking for something. Cody only partially paid attention to him; he was still torn between remembering the sight of Tay's full lips pressing down against the soft skin of a blumfruit, and worrying about her safety.

An achingly familiar smell derailed his thoughts as surely as if Tay had just stepped back into the room half-naked. Cody's head jerked up from his plate and his eyes landed immediately on the gray, opened can in Saa's hand.

"Caf?" he couldn't help sounding hopeful; it had been far too long since he'd enjoyed a good, bracing cup of the thick, black beverage.

"Yup," Saa almost chuckled and then shrugged. "Don't tell Tay, but I keep a can stashed away for when I visit her here. I'm afraid I kind of use her lack of eyesight against her, in this one case."

Cody pursed his lips in disapproval, but he couldn't really fault Saa. He hadn't been able to work out what Tay had against caf, exactly, but now that he smelled it, he realized how much tea just didn't cut it.

He wanted desperately to ask Saa if he minded sharing some of the wealth, but decided it probably wasn't the brightest idea, given the circumstances. They barely tolerated each other existing in the same house; expecting a disgruntled mercenary to share illicit bounty was more than likely somewhere in the same realm of possibility as expecting a Sith not to kill a Jedi.

Cody ducked his head down and tried to focus on what was left of his breakfast. He nibbled on a piece of buttered toast and tried to think about Tay, but the scent of caf was distracting, to say the least. Cody wondered absently what he'd choose if given a choice - Tay, or a cup of caf? He was just deciding that the best possible outcome to that quandary was Tay _with_ a cup of a caf, when a steaming mug plunked down on the counter in front of him.

"Don't know how you like it, but there's sugar over there," Cody looked up just in time to see Saa jerk his thumb over toward a series of sealed jars that lined the back of the nearest counter.

Cody had to remind himself that bowling an older man over in a rush for a sugar container that wasn't going to go anywhere, was not polite. So, he contained his excitement and tried to pass off what he hoped was a casual nod of acknowledgement.

"Thanks," he turned to pick up his mug and stopped in startled shock.

It was made out of gray duraplastic - just like every single mug he'd ever drank caf out of in his short thirteen years of life. Something like normality slipped back into his life, as simple as the steaming, fragrant mug in front of him.

He glanced at Saa, with an expression of unspoken gratitude. The older merc just shrugged.

"It's the little things," he settled down on the stool next to Cody and motioned toward his own duraplastic mug. "I get it."

"Where'd you get these?" Cody marveled for a minute, before slipping off of his stool and making a beeline for the sugar jar.

"Not too hard to pick up two Republic-issue galley mugs when nobody's lookin'," Saa snorted wryly. "Not like they'd miss 'em, y'know?"

"I guess not," Cody conceded.

He dumped two large spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee and stirred it thoughtfully. Maybe Saa wasn't such a bad sort, after all...

"Look, I'm sorry -" he turned around to face Saa, but the merc shook his head and cut it off.

"Don't worry about it."

The two men fell silent after that. Cody decided to add a splash of milk to his coffee, since the kitchen was decidedly lacking in cream and for some time, the two just sat on their respective stools and drank their caf. It was several minutes before Cody realized that Saa had stolen the piece of toast from his plate and was munching happily on it, while squinting at the snow-covered view outside of the kitchen window.

"You're still 'Dar'manda', though," Saa finished the last of the toast and brushed crumbs off of his hand.

Cody immediately bristled, but before he could say anything, the merc glanced at him laconically and raised an eyebrow as if to say "just try to stop me."

"It's a cultural insult, not a personal one," Saa turned calmly back to his caf. "Tay sees something in you, so I'll give ya' that ya' have a heart. But, that doesn't mean ya' have a soul."

The words still hurt, no matter how Saa meant them. But, Cody took a large swallow of his sweetened caf and counted to twenty. He struggled to find the calm that he had learned to control during meditation; he managed a find his "center" for just a moment, but it was long enough to keep him from starting a fight.

"If I have a heart, then I have a soul," he repeated something Tay told him at the start of every meditation.

He wasn't sure he believed that himself entirely, as of yet, but he wasn't going to admit that to Saa.

"Of course you have a soul, _di'kut_," Cody didn't need a dictionary to recognize the Mando'a word for "idiot." "But you don't have a soul in the _Mandalorian_ sense of the word."

The clone just blinked, baffled by Saa's linguistic jumps of logic. So, he just shook his head and asked the obvious -

"What does that mean, exactly?" Cody narrowed his eyes at Saa over the rim of his mug.

"It means you have no sense of your own culture," the merc just shrugged; his green eyes looked Cody over critically. "It means you have no identity."

Cody pondered that for a moment. He'd had an identity, once - an identity that he never thought he'd lose. But, he wasn't a soldier of the Republic anymore. There _was_ no Republic. Now, his identity was lost somewhere under a mountain of shame and desertion. He stared into his caf, suddenly introspective.

He wanted to ask why he needed an identity, but the answer seemed pretty obvious. Losing his sense of self had led to desertion, addiction, and squalor. Even now, he felt empty. Tay had helped immensely, by teaching him to meditate and to fill his mind with something to focus on other than his cravings. And she tried to fill his days with work, but it was hard to stay physically active during the winter months in an agricultural lifestyle. Cleaning plant beds and algae tanks were hardly challenging and meditation was the only thing keeping Cody from floundering further into a sense of loss.

He realized how much he missed the 'simple things', as Saa put it. The former commander tapped the side of his near-empty duraplastic mug and enjoyed the taste of caf that lingered on the back of his tongue. He felt almost like his old self - for as long as he could remember, he'd started every morning with a cup of caf, sweetened with two spoonfuls of sugar and a touch of cream. It was an ingrained habit that represented more to him than just the simplicity of a hot drink on a cold morning. It represented a way of life that he still longed to recover.

He remembered something Saa had said.

"I think one of the first things you ever said to me, was that you'd help me find my soul," Cody lifted his head; the two men looked at each other solemnly.

Saa nodded, slowly, his answer simple.

"I did."

Cody paused a minute, before speaking further. He had no idea what was being offered - not really. But he was tired of trying to be something that he wasn't.

He wasn't even sure what he _was,_ anymore, but he knew he _wasn't_ a "civilian".

"Then teach me," Cody spoke softly, but his voice carried a note of finality. "I'm tired of being nothing."

* * *

When Tay came home that night, she found Cody and Saa sitting in front of the fire. The two had their heads bent together, over a block of wood that Saa was showing Cody how to carve. Interspersed throughout their conversation was the odd Mando'a phrase or word; the clone, bred to absorb even the smallest detail, was able to keep track of things now that he had someone to explain what everything meant.

Cody seemed to sense her arrival and looked up just in time to see Tay lean against the living room archway and smile. He flashed her a quick smile of his own, before Saa rapped his knuckles sharply against the side of his head.

"Pay attention,_ di'kut_, and watch where you point that knife!" he shoved Cody's hand with his own and glared.

In turning to look at Tay, Cody had accidentally pointed the business end of Saa's knife back at its owner's solar plexus. Cody corrected himself and glanced apologetically at Saa.

"Gotten kinda' sloppy," he said quietly; he hadn't even really meant to speak out loud, so he didn't add, "I'd never have done that a year ago."

Saa still seemed to understand what was going through his mind. The older merc shrugged and then slapped him on the shoulder.

"Reflexes are just like muscles, Dar'manda," he scratched his cheek a bit and examined the piece of wood in Cody's other hand. "You can lose 'em. But you can also train 'em back."

"You're still not calling Cody names, are you, Saa?" Tay sighed heavily as she settled down in her customary spot on the couch.

Saa made an impatient sort of motion with his hand and Cody handed the knife and wood back to him.

"We've come to an agreement, _Tay'ika_," he responded gruffly and made several quick motions with the knife.

The curve of a shoulder that Cody had been trying to correct, was smoothed out in just one quick flick of the wrist. The clone leaned a little closer toward the firelight and watched attentively, his body almost perfectly still in focused concentration.

The unspoken meaning behind Saa's words was clear: it was between him and Cody. And that's the way it was going to stay. Tay didn't seem to mind; either that, or she was distracted from her train of thought by the suspicious contents of the two mugs sitting on the floor beside the men.

"Is that_ caf _I smell?"

Cody glanced up, an almost guilty sort of smile tugging the corners of his mouth. In the firelight, Tay's gold headband twinkled as prettily as any woman's jewelry; for once, he was thankful she couldn't see. He glanced at Saa, shrugged, and flashed a quick grin.

"We've come to an agreement about that, too," there was a mulish quality to Saa's words.

He didn't look at Tay, but jutted his jaw out slightly in a stubborn manner as he shaped the small figurine in his thick hands.

"And what agreement is _that_, exactly?" Tay folded her arms across her ample chest, but Cody thought he detected something like amusement in her tone.

"We're boycotting your tea," Saa steadied the knife with his thumb as he made some fine lines along the length of the wooden figure's leg. "I'm trying to teach Dar'manda here to be Mando, not _aruetti_."

Cody now knew the word meant "foreigner", or "outsider." He caught Tay's spine stiffen just slightly.

"_Surely_ Mandalorians drink tea."

"Sure. As _medicine_," Saa finally looked at her, his expression almost mischievous.

"Caf really isn't good for you -" Tay started, but Saa cheerfully cut her off.

"Let us have our simple vices, _Tay'ika_. And we'll let you have yours."

He leaned back a bit and looked around Cody's shoulder, at Tay. Cody looked over at her as well; her lips were pursed for a minute, but something about what Saa had said seemed to have struck a nerve. She titled her face toward Cody and he could feel the slight pressure against his senses that he had come to associate with her consideration. She finally sighed and shook her head.

"I'm not even going to ask how you managed to smuggle caf into this house," she seemed to realize that arguing was futile. "And here I was worried about leaving the two of you alone for all the wrong reasons. You didn't maim each other - you schemed!"

"Something like that," Saa seemed pleased by her acceptance and also by the progress of the carving.

He held it up against the firelight and considered it critically. It had been Cody's idea to carve clone troopers for chess pawns; they had spent several hours arguing over what kind of clone troopers to use, or which units to represent. They finally decided on the 501st and the 7th Sky Corps; they were just now putting the finishing touches on a 501st foot soldier.

"Does this now mean I lose my meditation partner, as well?" she seemed almost disappointed at the thought.

Cody shook his head, even though she couldn't see him.

"I'll admit it's weird," he took the pawn from Saa and turned it over in his hands. "But, it does some good for me. I enjoy it."

"By all means, keep it up. I'll admit the _Jetiise_ have their own wisdom to glean from," Saa scraped a hand across his unshaven chin and the smile in his green eyes softened some of the gruffness of his words. "It'll help focus Dar'manda's mind," he reached out and tapped the top of Cody's head again. "And help strengthen his body again," he shrugged, his eyes still belying the severity of his words. "He's no good to me with a soft mind or a soft body."

The implication of Saa's words was clear; Cody winced a bit.

_Right now, I have both,_ he thought, momentarily frustrated.

He had so many challenges left to overcome, that it sometimes felt as if the odds were stacked solidly against his favor. He still craved a short of whiskey, or a hit of stims - even now, after a quiet day of caf and good companionship. All he'd learned to do in the last few weeks, was to channel his cravings and negative thoughts into other things - like meditation or scrubbing alazhi tanks.

He wondered if that was enough. If he would spend the rest of his life doing nothing else, except placing his energies into other things, instead of going for what he still craved.

The clone took a deep, steadying breath.

_Positive in. Negative out_, he repeated Tay's quiet words to himself.

"How's the baby, by the way?" Saa surprised Cody with his abrupt change of topic.

"Good. It was a fairly easy birth," Tay stood up gracefully, just to take a few steps and settle down next to Cody and the fire. "Loka gave birth to a healthy little girl - they've named her Dria."

There was something soft and wistful about her voice; Cody studied her for a moment. Something like sadness deepened the faint lines around her mouth and he was curious. There was so much he didn't know about her, but the topic of children seemed to be a sensitive one for her.

He wanted to ask, but bit his tongue. Now seemed neither the time, nor the place.

"Good," Saa leaned a back in his chair and stretched his boots out toward the fire grate. "I'll be sure to give Sazen my congratulations."

"And your Mando speech on fatherhood?" the sadness lifted a bit as Tay titled her head and smiled.

"That, too," Saa chuckled.

The trio fell silent for a few minutes and Cody fiddled with the wooden figure in his hands. He studied the lines on the DC-15A blaster rifle held at port arms across the soldier's chest. There were a few more details that could be added and he started to reach out and ask Saa for the knife, when Tay tapped him gently on the knee.

He glanced over and immediately noted her cross-legged pose.

"Right here?" he lifted his eyebrows, surprised.

They usually meditated in the conservatory.

"Why not?" Tay shrugged with a smile. "Meditation isn't confined to one place."

"Okay," Cody reluctantly handed the pawn back to Saa.

The older merc caught his eye and winked, his face straight. Without another word, Saa picked up his knife again and started adding more detailed lines on the blaster rifle and the trooper's helmet. Cody glanced back at Tay, a little uncertain, as he crossed his own legs.

"We'll just do a seated meditation, tonight," Tay murmured; her voice had dropped into it's quiet octave.

Cody set his hands on his thighs and took a few deep, centering breaths.

"By the way, before you two get too deep, the day after tomorrow is Jornada del Muerto," Saa quietly interrupted; Cody cracked open an eye and looked over at him.

He was holding the clone trooper pawn thoughtfully; this time, the expression on Saa's face wasn't one of an artist's criticism. He seemed to be looking past it, his expression surprisingly melancholy, as if it were a representation of someone he'd known once.

Someone, that he missed.

Saa ran a thumb over the pawn's unpainted helmet, before letting his hand fall down into his lap. He curled his other hand into a fist, propped his chin against it, and gazed into the fire.

Tay didn't say anything, but she let out a longer exhale, almost as a sigh. Cody wondered what Saa was talking about, but no further illumination was given.

He heard Tay's breathing start to soften and he focused on his own in response. The fire cracked and popped behind him, Tay sat elegantly beside him in shades of soft green and gold, and Saa stretched out in front of the fire, pawn and knife now resting in his lap. The quiet domesticity of the moment sank deeply into Cody's senses and soothed that part of him that had grown restless and ragged during the events of the day. He puzzled a bit over Saa's abrupt non-sequitur and over the sadness the fire had reflected in the merc's face, but then his mind drifted into the comfortable calm that he had come to enjoy.

And, then, Saa's voice whispered into that calm, so gently that it took Cody a few seconds to focus on his words.

"_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. Del'ika, Al'ika, Kel'ika, Val'ika..."_

A litany of names mingled with the crackling fire and Tay's gentle breathing. It flowed in and out of their mutual meditation and Cody knew, with a certainty born from his own sorrows, that each name was a memory of what had been lost.

**

* * *

**

**Translation:** "**Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum**." _Mando'a for:_ "**I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal**."_ This is a daily Mandalorian remembrance, followed by the names of those deceased._


	10. Jornada Del Muerto2

_"Mochiagete, tokihanashite"_

**Linkin Park  
"Jornada Del Muerto"**

**

* * *

**

The next day was rather somber, as both Tay and Saa seemed to be preparing themselves mentally for what was to come. Confused, Cody tried asking Saa what was going on, but the older merc just shook his head and smiled a bit.

"Tomorrow is Jornada Del Muerto...but we don't speak of it before or after the day," he shrugged. "It's an old Anobian custom," he handed Cody the small ax that he had been sharpening. "Now come help me chop some firewood."

So, it was with some surprise, that Cody walked in to the kitchen the next morning and found Hella sitting on his stool.

"Do you always walk around half-naked?" it didn't take much to figure out that she had inherited Saa's gift for cutting conversation.

"Only in the mornings," Cody eyed her warily as he slid onto the stool next to her.

Saa was fiddling with his duraplastic mugs and caf filled the kitchen with its rich scent. Tay had her back to all of them, as she was frying something that smelled delightfully like nerf. At Hella's question, the former Jedi looked over her shoulder and flashed a playful smile.

"Enjoy it for the rest of us!"

Cody spluttered and stared.

_Where did_ that_ come from?_

Hella wrinkled up her nose, as if to say something smart in response, but Saa beat her to it.

"Speak for yourself," he grunted and glanced at Cody with an uplifted eyebrow. "I'm only impressed when the other party has something I_ don't_."

Tay giggled and Cody felt the tips of his ears burn.

"I have always found the human lack of fur disturbing," Hella sniffed, looked critically at Cody's bare chest, and then turned pointedly away from him. "I will never understand why you all take such pride in having fur-less skin like newborn kittens," she shuddered, her ears twitching flat against her skull. "Ugh!"

"It's nice to know you've always found me 'disturbing', _ad'ika_," Saa retorted wryly as he plunked a full cup of caf down in front of Cody.

Hella had the good graces to look suitably abashed. Her tailed curled almost shyly around her leg and she laid her ears back again in a slightly different manner, as if embarrassed.

"I did not mean it quite like _that_, Saa_'Buir_," the Togorian sputtered a bit.

"_Dar'manda _might not be your definition of handsome, _Hel'ika_," the older Mandalorian suddenly leaned across the counter and tapped the scar that curved around Cody's eye. "But at least he has the body of a _verd_, no? Admire that, if you can't anything else."

"'Body of a _verd_'?" Cody wasn't entirely sure if he had just been complimented or insulted.

"Body of a warrior," Saa waved his hand toward Cody's upper-body in an all-encompassing gesture. "It's a thing to be proud of. Means you have scars. Means you've been in battle."

The former commander glanced down at his chest and at the multitude of scars that criss-crossed his skin. Some were still tight and new - scars from Jecks. Scars from the Nikto at Saa's bar. Some were older and more faded. Scars from far too many battles, where far too many others had died. Scars from too many live-fire exercises with his training squad when he was barely a child.

Some scars didn't have a noble history. Now, he had scars from his own self-inflicted abuse.

Cody rubbed his hands guiltly along the tops of his thighs.

"Not all scars are worth being proud of," he said quietly, awkwardly.

Saa just looked at him over the rim of his mug and lifted an eyebrow. He took a sip of his still-steaming caf and then shrugged.

"Sure they are. Scars remind us that the past is real. All scars are something to be proud of, if you choose to look at 'em that way. They remind us that we _survived_."

Cody wondered if Saa knew what he'd been talking about. Of course, did it matter anymore? He'd been clean almost two months now and his past wasn't a secret to anyone in the room, except for Hella. He ducked his head and took a sip of his own caf, quiet in thought for a moment.

"Of course, not all scars are physical," Tay's quiet voice joined the conversation, as she set a plate of fried nerf strips down in front of the three gathered around the island counter.

"But, do all scars heal?" Hella wondered out loud; Cody glanced at her, a bit surprised by the introspective nature of her question.

"If you work to heal them, yes," Tay softened the sudden somberness of the moment with a gentle smile.

"Hmm," Hella reached for a piece of nerf and munched on it thoughtfully.

"Speaking of such things," Saa rocked back on his heels and thumped the counter lightly with the flat of his hand. "I believe we owe you an explanation for today, _Dar'manda_."

Cody just nodded, his mouth full of nerf strips and eggs.

"For starters, today is New Year's, for the rest of the galaxy," Saa scratched his nose and Cody felt a jolt of surprise.

_Has that much time really passed already?_ he wondered silently to himself.

It seemed like just yesterday, that he'd stumbled out of a second-rate transport, into the grungy, crime-ridden, foreign capitol of a Mid-Rim world he'd picked out by random. He knew he was coming close to having spent a year on Anobis, but he hadn't realized that it had come quite so quickly. He shook his head a bit and stared down at his plate, which was still partially full of some unidentified type of scrambled eggs.

"But, unlike the rest of galaxy, today is a special day of remembrance, for Anobians. The customs of Jornada Del Muerto come from ancient memory; some say the day is even influenced by Mandalorian customs," Cody glanced up to catch a slight smile of pride tug at the corners of Saa's mouth. "Which, by the way, in case you haven't noticed, _Dar'manda_, Anobis has a significant population of _Mando'ad_."

"Mostly on the mining side, though," Tay interjected quietly; her hands curled around a mug of what Cody knew to be tea, as she spoke. "Since most of the business is to be had there."

"Hmm," Cody just made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement and nursed his caf.

"Today, you and I are going to go help the local men cull the nerf and bantha herds," Saa pointed a finger at Cody and then back at himself.

"Cull?" the clone raised a dubious eyebrow.

"This side of Anobis is very rural - the people are tied to the land, to the seasons, and to their agriculture. The animals have to be culled, in order to assure the health of the next season's herd. It's also a food issue. Farmers cull their herds once a year to stretch the food supply for both animals and people during the last of the winter months," Tay explained.

Cody just nodded. He wasn't sure he understood the concepts of agricultural life, but he supposed it made sense. Culling the herds would give people meat and also ensure that the healthier members of the herds had enough to eat themselves, until the snows melted enough for grazing.

"Why today, though?" he turned to Saa, who seemed to be quite the expert on the local customs.

"It's mostly symbolic, really," the older man shrugged. "It's to remind the people of the cycle we all live with. Life always comes hand-in-hand with death. And survival is a process of culling in its own way."

Cody nodded, slowly.

"The processes of separating the old and infirmed from the herds will take a number of days, really. But, the initial slaughter takes place on Jornada Del Muerto, for symbolism's sake. It's part of the ritual of the day. It ties into the ideas around New Year's, too - out with the old and all that."

"What do the females do?" Cody glanced at Tay and then - a little more cautiously - at Hella.

The Togorian huffed under her breath and stabbed at her eggs, but didn't say anything.

"The women will spend the day setting up for the bonfires tonight and cooking the community feast," Saa reached out and playfully tugged on Hella's whiskers.

She growled and batted at his hand, showing just the tip of a single canine as she flattened her ears in disapproval.

"Jornada Del Muerto's segregated customs have always annoyed _Hel'ika_," Saa chuckled and explained the interpersonal interaction for Cody's benefit. "You know you don't always have to come back home and be with me every year, _ad'ika_."

"Yes, I know," Hella replied a bit sourly and then took a long-suffering sort of sigh. "But, I am a dutiful _ad'ika_, and I humor my_ buir_ and his strange homeworld customs," she rolled her eyes and then looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "And it does not happen _every_ year, because you are not always home _every_ year. So, when you are," Hella shrugged. "I come. It is important to you. So, it is important to me."

Cody quietly admired the Togorian's selfless deference to her adopted father and his way of life. He had never had the chance to observe family dynamics up close, so the interaction between Saa and Hella was poignant. He glanced down at his now-empty plate and wondered absently if he would ever get the chance to experience something similar. His eyes traveled, unbidden, toward Tay, but then he blushed and looked away.  
_  
Don't even go there,_ he warned himself.

"Jornada Del Muerto is important to me because I haven't always been able to celebrate it. It's a unique custom that doesn't carry the same weight when practiced off-world - at least, that's how I feel about it," Saa patted Hella's orange-striped arm with obvious affection. "It's not a custom you can separate from the community in which it's practiced. So, I treasure_ Hel'ika_'s efforts to travel home when I'm here. She contributes her part well."

"I chop and carry firewood, and bring home Mandalorian sweets," Hella commented wryly. "And I scare the local females."

Tay giggled and Hella twitched her ears at her in something of a feline-like grin.

"Other than that, my contribution is not significant."

"Oh, but it is," Saa insisted, gently. "You're home."

He took a deep a breath and smiled roguishly at Cody.

"Today is a day for family. And community. Without those two, Jornada Del Muerto would mean very little. The day is meant to bring us all together, to remember the beloved dead and to greet a new year in unity," his expression turned solemn once again. "Today is, perhaps, one of the most important days in the Anobian calendar - regardless of what side of the planet we live on."

A moment of silence settled around the four; it was finally broken when Saa lifted his mug of caf in quiet salute.

"And, we start the day like this," he motioned around him, at Tay, at Cody, at Hella. "Gathered in the kitchen, in the heart of the home, as a unit of family. Then, we go out and work hard during the day, as a unit of community. We eat together, tonight, as a community. And then we enjoy the company of others, as a unit of family once again, surrounded by community at the bonfires. And we talk only of the past today - of those we never want to forget. Of those we need to let go. We share stories and memories - as a community. As a family."

At that moment, a feeling of deep loss pierced Cody's heart. At that moment, he'd have given anything for his brothers - for the only semblance of family and community that he had ever known. He stared into his almost-empty mug and felt horribly alone. And, he wondered if he wanted to share his stories with others, with strangers. It seemed almost sacrilegious to let those memories go; not to mention, dangerous.

Tay's soft hand settled on his own, startling him. He glanced up, suddenly ashamed. He knew by now that she'd felt what he was feeling; he suddenly thought that maybe he didn't have the right to feel that way. Not after what_ she _had lost.

His brothers were still out there and he had left them by choice. But, her whole Order had been practically annihilated, by no choice of her own. All he'd ever lost were men exactly like him in almost every way. But, she'd lost her husband.

"You only have to speak, today, if you want to, Cody," Tay seemed to have picked up on Cody's train of thought. "You don't even have to share your memories with any of us," she motioned with her other hand toward the others. "The Anobians allow for private grief, though you will be encouraged throughout the day to share the weight of your losses with others."

"If you don't want to speak, you can choose what we call 'the Memory of Silence'," Saa added, his gruff voice much softer than usual. "I will admit that it may be dangerous to share your story with the community at large."

Cody saw Hella's ears twitch out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't tell if it was curiosity or aggravation (or both) that prompted her non-verbal reaction, but he could feel the weight of her eyes on him. He stared at his plate and resisted the urge to meet the Togorian's gaze.

"You also don't have to go into any detail," Tay concluded. "No one will pressure you."

"I've known some Anobians - especially Mandalorian Anobians - to simply speak a name, and nothing else, today," Saa admitted. "We celebrate Jornada Del Muerto as a community. But, the choice on how to share your grief and remember your dead, is your own to make."

Cody nodded and thought of Waxer. He fiddled with his fork and locked himself quietly away in his own thoughts. It was a solemn day and he wasn't used to participating in such traditions or customs. There hadn't been many in the Army. Except, of course, for traditions and customs unique to the Republic Army at large, like the Republic Day Ball or Republic Memorial Day. And, he'd heard rumors and talk about Mandalorian customs and traditions. But, he'd never participated in any, or even really seen any observed among the troops in his command.

_Is this what Saa means by 'a man without a soul'?_ he wondered. _This lack of tradition?_

He shifted in his seat, unsure if it was appropriate for him to observe Jornada Del Muerto with the rest of them. He was an outsider, in all senses of the word, and Saa was right. It would probably be too dangerous to speak of the brothers he'd lost. He couldn't speak of anything that would even _suggest_ that he was a deserter. If he did - Cody glanced up at Tay and then at Saa - he'd be putting their lives in unnecessary risk.

And, he'd already done enough of that, just by being with them.

"Well, let's start our day," Saa took a deep breath and Cody's attention focused back on the time at hand. "And, we start Jornada Del Muerto with this -"

The merc set down his mug and lightly thumped his chest, fist over his heart.

"As we say here in Anobis, _'Mochiagete, tokihanashite' - '_lift me up, let me go'. I lift up my sons," Saa bowed his head for a moment, his voice solemn. "I let them go."

He put his hand on Tay as he moved past her, to put his mug in the sink behind her.

"I lift up my husband and my son," Tay's soft voice was barely a whisper.

Cody jerked his head up and stared at her, wide-eyed.

_"Son?" _his mind reeled with the implications.

"I let them go," she took a deep breath, before reaching across the counter to touch Hella's paw.

"I lift up my _aliit_," the Togorian bowed her head for a moment; her whiskers twitched. "I let them go."

She then put her paw on Cody's shoulder. He was surprised by how gentle her touch was; the weight settled gently against his bare skin, and the pads of her paw were soft and warm.

"I...lift up my brothers," he said, awkwardly.

Cody then paused, for a long moment. He knew what he was supposed to say, next - he'd already heard Tay, Saa, and Hella utter them. But, the words got stuck in his throat and he wondered if he could really mean them.

Finally, he got the words out and his heart felt hollow.

"I let them go."

* * *

"_Mochiagete, tokihanashite_, Saa!"

Cody eyed the tall Zabrak male coming toward them, with an eye made wary from a lifetime of identifying hostile targets. He watched Saa's reaction out of the corner of his eye, but the older merc just limped a little faster and smiled warmly in response as he reached a hand out toward the unidentified stranger.

"_Mochiagete, tokihanashite_, Sazen!"

The two men met in the middle of the muddy, half-frozen rural road and gripped each other's forearms in an enthusiastic greeting. The tan-skinned Zabrak reached around Saa's shoulder to thump the older man happily on the back, in a gesture of good-humored familiarity.

"So, who are you remembering today?" the two men stepped away from each other and Sazen's question seemed part of a well-known ritual, as old as their initial greeting.

"Today, I remember my sons and the man I called my brother," Saa responded calmly, but Cody - well-trained in the ability to pick up almost imperceptible tonal fluctuations - thought he heard a hint of sadness in the mercenary's voice.

"Ah," Sazen nodded solemnly. "We haven't heard those memories yet. It'll be an honor to know, if you care to share them with us."

Saa just nodded in his own response and then asked -

"And who are you remembering today?"

"My brother and my father," a dark expression flitted momentarily across Sazen's face. "I have finally healed enough from their loss, to tell their story."

"Then I'll be honored to hear it," Saa reached up and thumped the taller Zabrak on his back and the two of them shared a brief, bitter smile.

"Who is your companion?" Sazen turned toward Cody as the three of them continued their walk toward the farm closest to Tay, to the west of her property line.

The Zabrak looked Cody up and down with undisguised curiosity.

"One of your many sons, perhaps?" he added and glanced hopefully at Saa.

"I can't claim this one, unfortunately," Saa's lips tugged down into a frown and he shook his head, without glancing over at Cody. "Not yet, anyway."

Cody puzzled immediately over that particular choice of words. So far, the day had been full of surprises. First, was Tay, expressing even a passing interest in his physical anatomy. And now, this, the peculiar suggestion that he wasn't one Saa's sons..._yet_.

He glanced curiously at the man to his right, but if Saa noticed his gaze, he ignored it resolutely.

"This is Cody. He's a stray Tay picked up during her visit to the capitol."

"Ah," Cody was surprised by the grin that flashed across the Zabrak's tattooed face. "You must have been hurt," his smile widened as he looked at the clone from over the top of Saa's head. "Our lovely Tay has quite the heart, doesn't she?"

"If you mean that she can't say 'no' to a sob story, that'd be about right," Saa grumbled, but his words were good-natured, like a father griping playfully about his daughter.

Sazen's laughter was loud against the stillness of the frozen fields around them. Cody found himself drawn to the gregarious Zabrak - he seemed friendly, open, and pleasant. A marked difference to the company he'd grown accustomed to in strangers.

"Well, in any case..._Mochiagete, tokihanashite_, Cody!" Sazen's voice was rich and deep with friendly good-cheer.

"_Mochee-get-ee, tokee-hana-shit-ee_," Cody tried to speak the foreign words as best he could, but he could tell by Saa's chuckle and the smile on Sazen's mouth, that he'd said them all wrong.

"Close enough," Saa tried to hide laugh by coughing, but was remarkably unsuccessful.

Cody just glared at him from out of the corner of his eye.

"Who do you remember today?" Sazen continued what was apparently a standard greeting for the day.

Words got caught in Cody's throat. Social awkwardness - and a sense of alarmed self-preservation - kept his jaw stubbornly locked as his mind searched for any graceful way out of the harmless, but direct, question.

"Cody has chosen to observe the day in the Memory of Silence," Saa explained smoothly, as if Cody's awkward silence was a perfectly acceptable answer in and of itself.

"The wounds of loss must still be fresh," Sazen's face turned sympathetic and Cody felt like dirt.

It wasn't a lie, per se. But, it still felt slightly dishonest, somehow.  
_  
Would Sazen be so sympathetic, if he knew that I was deserter?_ Cody had to wonder where the Zabrak's loyalties lay.

"I chose to observe last year's Jornada Del Muerto in silence," Sazen continued as if nothing was amiss; Cody was quite thankful that the only Force sensitive around seemed to be Tay. "This is a hard day, when the memories are still new," he nodded sympathetically toward the silent clone. "I hope the day will bring you healing."

The three men fell silent for an appropriate moment of silence, each one lost to his own thoughts. Cody's were just starting to settle on the last memory he had of Waxer, when Sazen shouldered Saa with a curious grin.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Saa. I thought you had a business in the capitol, yes?"

"Had to leave the city unexpectedly," Saa scratched the side of his head; Cody just looked straight ahead, dead-pan. "I make no bones about my profession, Sazen," the merc flashed a tight-lipped smile up at the open-faced Zabrak. "It gets a little...'sticky', sometimes."

"I certainly see you've come back with a limp," Sazen was no fool; Cody could tell that he'd picked up on everything Saa_ hadn't _said.

"Yeah," Saa grimaced. "Tay says I'll have that for the rest of my life."

"Hazards of the job, yes?"

"Definitely."

There was another pause, as Sazen seemed to be thinking something over.

"I won't lie - there are some in the village who question what you are, Saa," his eyes flickered toward Cody. "And the company that you keep. But," he shrugged eloquently. "You brought us Tay and she looks after us. For that, I thank you on behalf of us all."

Saa just grunted, clearly embarrassed by the gratitude. Sazen didn't seemed put off by the merc's gruff response; if anything, the Zabrak's smile grew broader.

"Will you be with us for a while, this time?"

Cody inferred from the familiar nature of the conversation, that there had been other times in the past, when Saa had visited the little village and mingled with its local population.

"Indefinitely, I think," Saa set his jaw at an oddly stubborn angle.

Cody shoved his hands into the pockets of the borrowed jacket he was wearing and ducked his head against the brisk wind that blew loose snow across the road. He didn't contribute anything to the conversation and purposefully kept his face blank, so that he didn't give the observant Sazen anything to wonder about. But, he was listening closely to the exchange and learning quit a lot about what lay between the lines.

"Good!" Sazen seemed unusually pleased by this. "It's not right for Tay to be by herself all the time."

"She doesn't need a man to look after her, I can assure you," Saa snorted slightly.

Cody thought of her, backed up against a dark alleyway, with her lightsaber gripped in a shaking hand, and silently disagreed.

"She may not _need_ one, but it's good that she have one, nonetheless," Sazen didn't seem to mean his words in a chauvinistic manner at all, but it was clear what his ethnic culture believed was appropriate for gender roles. "She needs someone to look after, if nothing else. That way, maybe she'll stop taking in strays," he winked at Cody and grinned.

Saa snorted.

"I don't think having someone to look after, would stop her from finding some other unfortunate soul to take in."

Sazen just shrugged with an easy-natured laugh.

"Speaking of Tay," Saa changed the topic abruptly and angled his head to the side to look up at Sazen. "I hear you've had a baby."

"Yes," Sazen puffed his chest out and walked a little straighter.

Cody found himself envying the change that had come over the Zabrak. He didn't need to be Force sensitive to detect the warmth and happiness that filled the new father with pride.

"A little girl. We've named her 'Dria'. It's too cold for our kind, to bring her out to the village tonight, but you are welcome to stop by our home at any time, to see her," Sazen was all fatherly pride. "We will be presenting her to the village, once the snows melt."

"Well, I'll have to stop by one afternoon," Saa seemed oddly touched by the invitation. "Since I'm not planning to go anywhere else any time soon."

* * *

The farm to the west of Tay, was owned by Sazen's uncle, and was considerably smaller than Tay's more generous acreage, but ranched a herd of about fifty head of nerf. Cody quickly learned why the holiday had earned its descriptive moniker, "Working Day"; herding nerfs was a grueling task.

They started off by moving the uncle's nerf herd from his property, back out towards the village. According to Saa and Sazen, other groups of local men were banding together to do the same at the various homesteads in a rough five mile radius of Mydwyth. Some farmers owned only herds of bantha; some owned only herds of nerf; one or two of the bigger farms owned herds of both. The idea was to herd all of the animals back to the outskirts of the village, where a series of sturdy pens had been built ages ago, for the specific task of pooling all the herds together for Jornada Del Muerto.

From there, the herds would be split into two groups - a group of healthy bantha and nerf, which consisted mostly of breeding-age females and males, and a group of older or injured animals. The ones that weren't expected to make it through the rest of the winter and the approaching spring, were corralled into their own sets of pens, for slaughter.

All of the work was done on foot, with the sole help of mangy, mixed-breed shepherding dogs. The bantha weren't too bad, since a whole herd could be kept in line with just one man and two dogs. But, the nerf were considerably harder. For every nerf herd, there was at least three to six men and just as many dogs, if not more.

Cody and Saa worked with Sazen, his uncle Tak, and his two nephews. Tak's nerfs were mostly healthy and particularly hard-headed; it took almost an hour to herd them the few miles back to the village pens, and by the end of that hour, Cody's arms and back were burning from having to wrestle several single-minded nerf back into line. Saa showed him how to lasso the enormous pack animals with just a long length of braided rope and Sazen taught him the most important of the dog whistles. Despite the help of rope and mutt, Cody was drenched in sweat by the end of it all and sore from the numerous places he'd been shoved about by disapproving nerf.

He _loved_ it.

For the first time in months, Cody felt _strong_. His muscles burned and his body ached, but it was the ache of a job hard won. He felt as if he had a purpose - sure, it wasn't the purpose he was born to do, but it was a purpose all the same. It wasn't the dull monotony of cleaning out plant beds, either.

He had to think fast and react even faster, to keep the high-strung nerf in check. More than one animal tried to assert it's own authority over the handful of men that were herding them down the rutted winter road. Cody found great satisfaction in pitting his own strength and will against the larger creatures; it wasn't battle, but it was struggle. And he'd been bred to find purpose in struggle.

Once all of the bantha and nerf had been properlly separated and corralled, the men of the village took a break. Cody joined Saa and Sazen, who were sitting on top of the rough wooden rails of a pen containing just a few of the younger banthas.

"A good day's work, eh, Cody?" Sazen had pulled his long dark hair over his shoulder and was braiding it with swift movements of his nimble fingers.

Cody watched out of the corner of his eye, fascinated. He was used to countless men with military-regulation haircuts, just like his own. Sure, he'd seen men with long hair; compared to his, General Kenobi and even General Skywalker, had 'long' hair. But, he'd never seen a man with hair as long and as fine as Sazen's - it was clear that the Zabrak took great care and pride in his appearance.

He remembered suddenly that Sazen had asked him a question, so he offered a slight smile and nodded his head. His arm burned as he lifted a hand to wipe the sweat that was quickly threatening to freeze to his forehead.

"Drink this," a low, familiar voice nearly startled Cody off of the wooden rail.

He whipped his head around abruptly, to find Hella standing with her hip leaning against a lower rail, a thermos of steaming caf in hand and a smug smirk. She shoved the thermos at him, her canines showing in a toothy grin.

"What's so funny?" Cody took the thermos cautiously.

Normally, he would have gulped down several mouthfuls of caf without a single care, but the look on Hella's furry face made him uneasy. He eyed her suspiciously and felt a flash of annoyance when Saa started to chuckle.

"Don't worry about the caf, _Dar'manda_," Saa nearly pushed him off of the rail with a well-meaning slap to the back. "She hasn't spiked it. Hella just enjoys sneaking up on the unsuspecting."

Cody just eyed her, caf in hand, his suspicions not entirely appeased. Hella looked quite smug; her ears were perked forward and her long, luxuriously fluffy tail, curled back and forth in a self-satisfied manner.

"It is one of the reasons why Togorians make such excellent _Mando'ad_," she practically purred as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Ever heard the expression, 'stealthy like a Togorian'? They do not say it for nothing."

"Don't let her ruffle your pride," Saa seemed to find the whole situation highly entertaining. "She _still_ sneaks up on me, just to prove that she's better at it than her old _buir_."

He tried to reach across Cody's chest to take the thermos, but Cody blocked him by moving his shoulder in the way. He glared for a moment, before tipping his head back and taking a cautious sip of the steaming liquid. He hadn't realized he was so cold; he could _feel_ the caf as it slid down his throat and settled, warm and filling, into his stomach.

As he drank his fill, Hella got a curious expression her face and leaned forward into his space. Cody paused, the thermos and his head titled back for another swallow, and the two stood frozen in suspicious consideration of each other for several long minutes.

"Why do you call him '_Dar'manda_',_ Saa'buir_?" her tail was the only thing that moved, as it flicked back and forth slowly. "I thought he was just an _aruetti_? An outsider?"

Cody lowered the thermos slowly, his heart pounding wildly. The question was a loaded one and they were in the company of a number of sharp-eared Zabrak. Tay had said that the truth of his identity - and hers - were known only to Saa, in order to protect the rest of Clan Par'jain, should the Empire track them down.  
_  
How's he going to talk his way out of this one?_ the clone wondered.

He clearly hadn't been around Saa long enough to know the man's smooth ability to spin the truth.

"He was born Mando, from Mando blood," Saa replied calmly, without even a hint of stress in his voice.

He reached around Cody, finally, and took the thermos from his hands.

"But, not every Mando child is raised the right way, I'm afraid," the old merc titled his own head back and took a lingering sip of caf. "He can't help the circumstances of his childhood," he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before passing the thermos to Sazen, who took it with a look of considerable gratitude. "But, that's what makes him _'Dar'manda_'."

"Well, that tells me absolutely_ nothing _about him," Hella laid her ears back and scowled at Cody, as if it were his fault that her father wouldn't speak in straight-forward honesty.

Cody resisted the urge to look at Sazen, but he could feel the Zabrak's younger nephews eying him with open curiosity.

This was dangerous territory that they were all treading and Hella seemed to sense it.

"_Not_ on Jornada Del Muerto, _ad'ika_," Saa was gentle, but his rebuke was crystal clear. "Respect Cody's Silence."

Hella had the good graces to look sufficiently chastised and even Sazen clucked his tongue at his nephews in warning. The younger males shuffled their feet - much like Hella - and then scampered off to help their father, who was trying to keep a nerf from charging the rails, several pens down from them. A dog barked into the silence and Hella sighed, crossed her arms on the top rail next to Cody, and bent slightly at the waist to lay her chin on the tops of her forearms.

"You called Del '_Dar'manda_', before you called him 'brother'," she observed in a surprisingly hushed voice.

"Yes, I did," Sazen had handed the thermos back to Saa, and he was staring thoughtfully into it.

"I would have liked to have met him," the Togorian sounded almost wistful. "You haven't really spoken of him, though, since the end of the War."

"Perhaps I should speak of him today, then," Saa handed the thermos to Cody, without taking a drink.

His face looked drawn and tired; Cody was struck by how deeply the stress lines etched Saa's face. He looked twice as old as he normally did; sorrow made a strange transformation to a person's countenance.

Saa seemed to be trying to figure out where to start. He stared straight forward, for a long time, not-really-looking at the shifting backs of restless bantha. Hella gently broke the silence.

"You met Del early on in the War, didn't you?"

"At Geonosis, to be exact," Saa sighed heavily.

Sazen sat on the rail at Saa's right; the Zabrak had his head bowed in respectful silence. Cody, on Saa's left, bowed his own head as well and quietly listened, as he held the cooling thermos in his hands.

"I'd been paid a rather handsome commission, to offer my services on the side of the Jedi. I had no idea what was being started that day - I was just looking to earn my wages, as it was."

Saa stared straight ahead, lost in memories that only he could see. The rest of them sat in respectful silence.

"It was a fierce, bloody battle - none of us knew it at the time, but it was indicative of the War to come. I don't remember much of that day, to be honest, and what I _do _remember, I wish I _didn't_," Saa's face twisted and Cody knew only too well what he meant. "But, I ended up fighting back to back with this young, fit trooper in armor that reminded me of my own. I later learned he was an Advanced Recon Commando, or ARC. One of thousands bred for the Republic's disposal."

"Del was one of Jango Fett's clones?" Hella seemed surprise; Cody wondered just how much she _hadn't _been told.

"One of millions," anger flashed across Saa's face, this time. "When I learned that Fett died at Geonosis, I was glad," his hands curled into tight fists against his thighs; his eyes stared, hard and angry, across the pen, toward nothing. "I had respected the man up until that point. That's when I realized why he had contacted me so many years before the war, to secretly train troops for the Republic."

Saa seemed truly angry now; his voice roughened and deepened in pitch.

"He'd asked me to be one of the _Cuy'val Dar_ - 'those who no longer exist'. At the time, I hadn't thought anything of it. But, after meeting ARC trooper Alpha-04, I realized the truth of what had been asked of me. I was furious - I still am."

Cody glanced at Saa out of the corner of his eye and didn't doubt the sincerity of the mercenary's words. His face was flushed and his green eyes blazed.

"Fett forgot that there are some things no mercenary with_ honor_ should accept in payment. He doomed a whole generation of men to the cold existence of _dar'manda_. It was bad enough that his countless sons were raised to be slaughtered, but he allowed so many of them to be raised without_ buir_, without tradition, without souls."

Saa seemed to have gotten a bit off topic, but no one corrected him. The words he spoke into the chilly winter air seemed to have been bottled up for a long time. They could all sense that they were words Saa desperately needed to vent, after years of suppression.

"Del and I would argue that point, later," Saa crossed his arms over his chest. "He was trained by Fett - as were all of the Alpha class ARCs. As far as I know, all of the special forces troopers were trained by Mando sergeants, hand-picked and hired by Fett himself. But, that was just a mere five thousand or so. The ordinary troopers were left to their own, to be trained by Kaminoan flash-instruction, and Jedi, and Jedi-picked mercenaries who may or may not have been Mandalorian."

Cody stared at the frozen mud caked against the rails beneath them._ He_ was one of those 'ordinary troopers' that angered Saa so much. Sure, he'd been trained by Alpha-17, one of the ARC's trained by Fett; but it hadn't been enough. His instruction had been limited mostly to military matters; there hadn't been enough _time_ to really pass on the sense of being Mandalorian that had so clearly driven Alpha and his brothers.

Saa had fallen silent for a moment, as if he were trying to pull his emotions under control. Finally, he took a deep breath and continued, his voice a little steadier.

"I didn't really get to talk to Del at Geonosis, but he had made an impression on me. We met again, a few months later, before the Battle of Dantooine. My work during the War was...special," Saa paused, as if trying to decide how much of his story to reveal.

When he spoke again, his words were a little slower, a little more careful.

"I fought on the side of the Separatists, but I worked for the Republic."

Cody knew immediately what that meant. He lifted his head and looked at Saa with renewed respect and no small amount of interest.

_A double-agent?_

Cody had been a little leery of Saa, after Tay had admitted to meeting him as a "Separatist prisoner". Old loyalties died hard, especially those that had been drilled into him from the time he'd been able to understand the difference between one side and the other. Despite the friendship that they had finally found, a large part of Cody had wrestled with the nagging thought that Saa had been "the enemy."

That all changed in a matter of seconds.

He looked away from Saa, realizing that Sazen was still with them and still fully capable of gleaning clues about his own past from his reactions. He went back to considering the mud again, but his mind reeled.

He'd heard about double agents, during the Wars. The former commander had never claimed to fully understand what they did, but he had always known one thing for certain - their job was infamous for its poor life expectancy. He'd never known a double agent to make it through a few months undercover, much less _the whole War_.

It was a silent testimony to the Mandalorian's prowess.

"So _that __is_ why I never heard from you that much," Hella had clearly drawn the same conclusions and her voice held some note of final forgiveness.

Cody glanced over at her; she was staring at Saa with a mixture of hurt and relief. It didn't take much to figure out that her and Saa were close - if she had heard only sporadically from her beloved father over the course of three years, it had no doubt left her wondering and a little resentful.

Cody began to understand a little more about the strange Togorian and her prickly personal interactions. In this instance, he couldn't blame her for being suspicious and a little hostile toward those she didn't know.

"Yes, _Hel'ika_, that's why," Saa sighed heavily and ran a hand through his short-cut, graying hair. "I was almost always undercover."

He shrugged and glanced thoughtfully at Sazen.

"I don't know if it's wise to admit what I was during the War, but I suppose it doesn't matter much now."

"You know as well as I do, that I owe you a debt, Saa," the Zabrak's words were measured and sincere. "And what is spoken on Jornada Del Muerto is never repeated."

Cody had to marvel at the solemn sanctity of the day and its highly revered customs. He'd never encountered anything like, before.

Saa bowed his head briefly toward Sazen in a silent show of thanks; the Zabrak nodded back and the mercenary continued his story.

"I was sent to Dantooine to gather information on Separatist forces - that was a usual day's work for me, during the War. Del was sent ahead of the Republic forces to assess the tactical situation and to make contact with me, to exchange information. I remembered him from Geonosis and by the end of the battle that followed Del's arrival, we had decided that we worked rather well together," Saa rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled for the first time. "There's nothing like taking out targets in a covert operation, to bond two men together."

Cody understood the truth of that, as well. Strange bonds were forged in battle - he thought of Commander Tano and Rex. Without the shared experiences of war, the two would have been more like he was toward General Undali. Friendly and courteous, but definitely distant. Fighting side-by-side created a deeper brotherhood than even shared genes or blood could. It was a near-sacred bond that couldn't be explained and could rarely be broken.

And, in the case of Rex and Ahsoka, it was a bond that could even leave to love. Cody wasn't exactly sure of the psychology involved in that sort of relationship, but he had seen it develop over the course of three years. He didn't question it.

"Like I said before, Del and I used to argue over whether or not he was _dar'manda_ or Mando," Saa shifted slightly on the rail. "But, we requested to work together on several operations after that and I began to see that even if I didn't agree with Fett's choices, he had taught his Alpha ARCs that one thing that truly makes a Mandalorian man. Fett had somehow managed to teach them that one thing I still think he lacked himself - he taught them honor. And after owning Del my life several times over, I started calling him 'brother'."

He dipped his head and rested his chin on his chest. When he spoke again, his voice wavered dangerously.

"He returned the honor and gladly."

Yet again, Cody glanced at Saa with renewed respect. He'd never heard of another clone referring to a non-clone as 'brother'. It was the highest compliment that could ever be paid.

"I worked closely with the ARCs throughout the war, and not just Del," Saa sighed heavily and kept his head down, as if to hide his emotions. "For men who were made the same, they were all very different. I had lost my own four boys before the War - I believe I've shared that story before."

Sazen and Hella nodded; Cody felt rather out of the loop, but the look on Hella's face kept him from asking about what had happened. The Togorian caught his eye, though, and she laid her ears flat against her head.

"One was my litter-brother, Mrov. He was killed by a _Jetii_ - a Jedi," she practically spat the word and Cody suddenly realized that the secret of Tay's identity wasn't kept just for the altruistic safety of "the Clan". "I have never forgiven them for that. I still mourn him."

"I'm not too fond of the _Jetiise_, myself," Saa finally lifted his head and slid a glance over toward Cody. "I never liked the way they just threw Fett's boys to the droids without a single protest," his green eyes narrowed to slits and he shook his head. "And I didn't care for the way they made my_ Hel'ika_ cry."

Cody concluded from that statement, that Saa had accepted his Togorian son's death. Making his daughter cry, however, was an offense of another matter entirely.

It was touching, in a rather bizarre sort of way. But, then again, Saa was rather bizarre himself, if nothing else.

"Anyway...I adopted a few of the ARCs I came to know. Alpha was the first - I helped uncover the location of his capture and detainment by that bald harpy, Ventress," Saa practically spat the name and it took everything in Cody's power not to _stare_.

"Alpha" - otherwise known as Alpha-17 - had trained him. And here, Saa was proudly claiming the ARC as his adopted son. Cody wondered if anything was going to surprise him ever again.

It now seemed, in a strange sort of way, as if Saa had been around in his life all along. It was a little unsettling and yet, oddly comforting, at the same time.

"Through Al'ika, I came to claim Keller and Valiant. Four ARCs, total, including Del. I worked closely with them throughout the War, going into places ahead of them to gather the information that _they _needed to do their jobs. Information that usually required extraction by means other than force, usually."

Saa scrubbed his face with his hand and Cody was simply amazed. He'd known Valiant and Keller - they'd been part of the ARC-trained Squad Seven, which he had lead along with Captain Davijaan, before being re-assigned to 7th Sky Corps under Kenobi's command.

_Several million clones and several thousand star systems, and this just proves that the galaxy is a small one, after all,_ Cody marveled.

He resolved to tell Saa about their mutual associations at another time. He had a feeling Saa might find it comforting to know that his sons had been great men, even from another's point of view.

"No one knows what happened to Al'ika. He was wounded by Grievous and, ironically enough, put on a transport with Ventress' dead body. He was supposed to arrive back in Coruscant; the transport's still flying around in space, s'far as anyone else knows," Saa titled his head and squinted up at the sky, as if hoping to see his lost son appear from the clouds. "Val'ika died during the Battle of Coruscant and Kel'ika..." Saa sighed heavily. "Kel'ika turned his back on his honor. For that, he is dead to me."

"What happened to Del?" Sazen ventured quietly.

"I'm not sure. But, his death has been confirmed. Don't ask me how he died, though," Saa looked back down toward the world around them and stared off into the distance. "I can only hope he died with honor."

Cody thought of Tay and her unwavering, Force-given knowledge, that her husband had died during the chaos of Order 66. He wondered what Saa meant by honor - did he hope, then, that Del had died trying to save a Jedi and defying his orders? And was that what he meant about Keller living_ without _honor? That he had obeyed the Emperor's orders without question, like a droid?

_Like me?_

"And so, here I am," Saa concluded his 'memory' and sighed deeply, as if releasing a great weight off of his shoulders. "I was wounded at the end of the war and fell into the care of Del's young wife. When the Empire took over, I brought her back here, to Anobis. To home," he blinked and looked around him, as if seeing the pens and banthas for the first time. "Where we can mourn our dead in peace."

"Tay?" Sazen wondered.

"Yes," Saa just nodded, his answer simple.

Cody silently remembered what Tay had said about how she had met Saa.

_"I was on a medship in orbit around Felucia. Saa was actually one of my patients at the time - he was a Separatist prisoner, oddly enough."_

Did Tay know about Saa's past? Or, had she been covering his secrets, respectful of his own choice to divulge his past when he was ready? She had to have known about Saa, because of his relationship with Del, so Cody was willing to bet the later.

_"I survived only because of Saa. He was barely able to move, but he managed somehow. I guess it's that Mandalorian stubbornness of his. Holding was close to the hangars and he managed to get me there and into a fighter. I don't remember much after that."_

There was a lot that Saa wasn't saying. It seemed, that when it came to each other, both Saa and Tay went out of their way to respect each other's secrets. Even from others in the_ aliit_ - Cody glanced slyly at Hella, who was watching a bantha with a closed expression on her feline face.

He had to wonder how much the Togorian suspected about the identity of her Miraluka sister-in-law. But, Saa had made it rather clear that Tay's past was not up for discussion, so any questions she might have had, remained unasked.

"Hella!" a familiar voice broke the silence that had settled over them and Cody didn't need to turn around to know it was Tay.

He turned around, anyway. She was bundled up in a large coat, a purple scarf, and wildly-colored mittens. Her gold headband flashed brightly in the winter sun and her warm smile flashed almost as brilliantly.

Her arms were filled with a heavy-looking basket, so Cody slipped off of the rail and jogged the few feet to meet her.

"What's this?" he asked as he took the basket from her, without even bothering to ask if she minded.

She gave it up with a laugh, though he had to wonder why a blush brightened the bridge of her nose.

"It's food, silly. Soup, to be exact."

"Oh," Cody looked down at the basket in his arms and shrugged. "Can't smell anything over those banthas."

"I can imagine. You rather smell like one yourself," Tay wrinkled her nose a bit, but her words were softened by her smile.

Almost impulsively, she reached up and tucked her hand into the crook of her arm. Cody hid his surprise by looking anywhere except at her, but he let her hold onto him as they walked back towards the others. As they walked, the clone realized that Tay's touch was beginning to open up a wealth of complex feelings inside of him.

Feelings that he remembered having once, for Jaria.  
_  
Don't you even dare_, he reminded himself, before he could really start to explore what he felt stirring deep inside. _You're a Jedi-killer. A dar'manda. Remember that._

He hung back once they had reached the group at the pens, and just watched as she took the basket from him and handed out lidded containers of steaming soup. He took his own before she could hand it to him and settled back on the rails, on the other side of Hella. Tay leaned against the rails where he had been sitting before, next to Saa, and turned her face toward him for a moment, her expression puzzled.

He worked very hard to keep his own confusion in check. He'd learned once, how to shut himself down around curious Jedi. He had earned Kenobi's respect because of it, though he remembered General Windu searching for his feelings through the Force once and being less than amused at his ability to block him out.

Tay just seemed mildly surprised. She gave him an enigmatic smile, which confused him further.

"I'm surprised you all haven't started culling," she turned back to Saa and waved her hand toward the pens closest to them.

They had all been so engrossed in Saa's story, that they hadn't noticed that the other village males had started butchering the bantha and nerfs that had been corralled for that exact purpose. Cody ate his soup and watched with a mixture of interest and disgust, as Sazen's uncle stood over a fallen nerf and started bleeding it into a large trench-like container.

"We've been listening to_ Saa'buir_'s memories," Hella explained around a mouthful of meat.

She eyed the soup in her hands and stirred her spoon around with an expression of suspicion.

"You put _vegetables_ in this, didn't you?" she shot Tay a rather disgruntled look.

"Yes," Tay responded rather sweetly. "But, we tried to remove any from your container, _Hel'ika_."

"Hmph," the Togorian stirred her soup a little more, before she shrugged and lowered her muzzle to lap at the broth.

Cody just stared. He'd never met a Togorian before Hella and he was finding them an odd - but fascinating - species.

"Well, I would love to stay and listen to your memories, gentlemen," Tay pushed herself off of the rail and gathered her now-empty basket.

She reached over and tugged Hella's tunic sleeve; the Togorian rolled her eyes and growled, but turned reluctantly toward the road.

"But, we've got our own work to finish before the sun sets."

Each male lifted his head and considered the position of the sun in the sky. Saa grunted and abandoned his spoon as well, lifting his container to sip the soup as if it were a drink.

"Guess we'd better be moving, too," he winked at the two females as they waved their farewells. "These bantha won't cull themselves, unfortunately."

Cody decided he'd never again be amazed by the resilience of Mandalorian emotions. Saa had just shared the still-painful memory of his clone sons and yet, he was already ready to get back to work.

The clone watched as Tay walked back toward the village; her voice carried back to him, but he couldn't hear what she was saying to Hella. He caught himself wondering if she'd talk about Del and her unnamed son later in the evening, during whatever celebrations were planned.

He found himself still curious, about Del in particular. He knew the memories of her loss were still very fresh and he had no desire to poke at wounds that weren't quite ready to heal. But, he hoped she hadn't taken a vow of Silence herself - if only, so he could learn what it was that had made a Jedi fall in love with a clone.


	11. Jornada Del Muerto3

By the time the sun set along the horizon, Cody was covered in blood - or worse. Culling the herds proved to be every bit as grueling as shepherding them along from the farms. His arms, back, chest and shoulders screamed in pain, but inwardly, he basked in the feeling of a job well done.

The hard-working mixture of Zabrak and human males only managed to cull about a third of the nerf and banthas separated for butchering. As they all trudged back toward their individual homesteads for showers and a change of clothes, Cody knew that they'd be right back to the same business the next morning. The work was back-breaking, cold, and smelly, but in his own, odd way, he looked forward to it.

It had been a long time since he felt like he had _belonged_. And today, as he worked beside Tak, Sazen, Saa, and the others, Cody felt like he was back to belonging to a whole much bigger than himself. It was comforting - as comforting as the stories that flowed among them, of loss and love.

Hard work seemed to loosen tongues - at least, on Jornada Del Muerto. Memories mingled with sweat, and blood, and mud, and Cody watched as more than one man smeared streaks of rusty red across his cheeks as he brushed away his tears. There was no sense of shame in their expressions of grief, however they chose to show it. Some laughed. Some cried. Some, like him, were merely silent. Some were a mixture of all three.

But, the sense of community and solidarity was striking. And respect for each other's grief didn't seem restricted to just those who had been born, or raised in Mydwyth. Cody was accepted without question into the group and some of the older men patted him on the back from time to time and murmured words of encouragement, meant to "help him along his way." More than one Anobian shared an instance where they, too, had chosen the Memory of Silence and others, like Sazen, expressed the hope that Cody's wounds would heal.

The openness of the tight-knit community was humbling. For most of the day, Cody just put his head down and worked silently, his ears aware of every word that was spoken around him. He worked, he listened, and he learned.

Not every "memory" was of death - there were many warmly told stories of lives well-lived and numerous anecdotes about those well-loved. At one point, Hella wandered back to the pens, carrying another hot thermos of caf and a small basket of flat sweet breads. It appeared as if Hella's job for the day - in addition to chopping firewood, scaring the local females, and bringing home Mandalorian treats - was to run food and drinks to the pens periodically.

She seemed oddly pleased with the arrangement, however, though Cody - and Saa, both - knew better than to comment on her willingness to pitch in. As the men shared the small, round cakes and the caf, Hella settled herself on the rail and started talking about her brother, Mrov. She shared a poignant story about their _ver'goten_ - their warrior rite of passage into the Par'jain clan - that made her laugh _and_ cry. That earned her a warm - if rather smelly - hug from her _Saa'buir_ and Cody was left to marvel at the touching range of emotions shared among the Mandalorians.

As a culture, they were fierce warriors, but as the events of Jornada Del Muerto unfolded, Cody began to realize that they were fierce lovers, as well. The juxtaposition of their emotional extremes was almost overwhelming to him. He had grown up surrounded by Kaminoan efficiency and had come of age amidst military professionalism - emotions and their complex extremes were as foreign to him as they were to the Jedi.

Hella's story prompted some of the others to start speaking of their departed dead, as well. Sazen told the story of his father and brother, who had died fighting for the Republic during the Wars. This revelation had startled Cody even further - he had heard of non-clones joining the war effort, but always as officers, or as freedom fighters, or as support auxiliary. He had never heard of non-clones enlisting to fight _alongside_ his clone brothers; he hadn't even realized that such units existed.

Sazen's brother and father had died during the Battle of Dinlo - Cody recognized the name. His fellow clone commander brother, Gree, had lead troops from the 41st Elite Corps during the conflict.

Cody suddenly wished that he had talked to Gree more about his command. Perhaps, if more of his brothers had been known about non-clone soldiers and their units, some of the feelings of bitterness during the course of the War could have been avoided. Most troopers - Cody included - had come to grudgingly accept that the War was fought and paid for in their own blood, with maybe the odd Jedi general thrown in good measure, not much else.

It did explain, however, Gree's unusual optimism toward the War, even as it had raged on into it's third bloody year. Cody had always envied that of him, but he had always assumed it had something to do with Commander - and later, General - Offee. And perhaps, some of Gree's optimism was due in part to his relationship with her, but now Cody suspected more of it came from the fact that his brother had seen others stand up to fight the War, without relying on the blood of others.

_It would have been nice to have known we weren't completely alone out there_, he thought, as he cut an elderly bantha's throat and listened to Sazen talk.

The conversation moved to Tak, who admitted to being a Separatist sympathizer during the War, but who still grieved the loss of his brother and his nephew. It seemed that here, at least, on the bucolic plains of agricultural Anobis, the divided sides of the Wars hadn't torn apart _every_ home and family.

The realization was a comforting one, for Cody. All too often, he had seen the devastation the War had brought to others and he had always felt a lingering sense of guilt for things he couldn't change. He couldn't help it that communities were bombed to bits, or that families fell apart, or that children were left as orphans without hope - but he had always felt a nagging sense of _responsibility_.

They all had, his brothers. It was one of those things that they _all _felt, but had never expressed. Not even to each other.

It was comforting to know that the War hadn't scarred little Mydwith beyond repair. Perhaps no other village in Anobis could say the same, but there was one that could, and that was good enough for Cody.

If there was one, then there were more, in other places. It was a hope that he could cling to, when the memories and the guilt came crowding back.

As the working day wound down, Tak talked about the loss of his wife, who had died in childbirth. At the time of her death, she was Mydwyth's only midwife and as the deep-voiced Zabrak explained how staggering her loss had been for the tiny community, the clone began to realize just how much Tay meant to the rural Anobians.

Childbirth was not an easy process for Zabrak females, apparently, and the title "midwife" came with a deeply revered and honored social status within the community. Tay's appearance into the Anobian village after Tak's wife's death, had come as a bit of a miracle to the mixed human-Zabrak community; without a skilled midwife, many more mothers and children were at risk.

Cody began to finally understand why all of the village men - most especially the Zabrak - treated Saa with such respect and why they all seemed to feel that they owed him a debt of gratitude. Tay's involvement in their lives went beyond just the simple duties of a healer - to them, her presence meant lives saved and families preserved against the pain of sudden loss. As a result, they welcomed Saa and Tay - and by extension, even Hella and himself - without question and without suspicion.

Their trust was humbling and deeply sobering.

Cody hoped against hope, that the Empire wouldn't ever find them. He finally understood the full ramifications of Saa's insistence that the truth about Tay - and now, about him - be kept a secret.

He wasn't just protecting a struggling Mandalorian clan, scattered across a plethora of Outer Rim planets.

He was protecting a simple little village and its quiet way of life. And Cody knew without ever having to ask, that the oddly honorable mercenary would move whole planets, if it meant keeping the people of Mydwyth safe. Saa felt a deep sense of responsibility to his fellow Anobians and Cody was even willing to bet that, in his own way, Saa saw them as an extension of his beloved _aliit_.

The older man would do anything in his power to keep them all safe. Even if it meant defying the Empire.

Even if it meant weaving vague half-truths and leaving his own daughter's questions unanswered.

* * *

"Where are you from, Saa?" Cody asked, as the two of them walked back toward the village in the gathering darkness.

Dusk had fallen while they took turns in the 'fresher back in Tay's little home. Saa swung a lanteran between them, which threw a slightly eerie, flickering light on the rutted road in front of them. Patches of frozen snow crunched beneath their boots and Cody hunched his shoulders against the still, but piercing, cold.

"From a village several hundred miles south of here," the merc replied, his voice quiet. "Kyrin. It burned to the ground when I was ten years old."

"What happened?"

Saa sighed heavily.

"There's a long history of dispute between the western and eastern halves of Anobis. The mountain people of the western side - the miners - have always welcomed outside influences and government, for the trade that it encourages. But, here in the plains?" Saa shrugged. "Well, you've seen life here. It's pretty quiet, and the people are rugged and independent. There's no need for outsiders telling us what to grow, or when to harvest it, or who to sell our crops to. Sometimes, these...differences of opinion...between the two hemispheres, have lead to violent resolutions."

"Oh," Cody just shoved his hands into the pockets of his thick, borrowed jacket, and couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I'm just lucky _Yln'buir_ found me, when he did," Saa continued, as if he didn't mind Cody's sudden awkwardness. "He never did tell me what lead him to Kyrin's ruins, but I've always rather suspected that he was Force-sensitive. Some of the things he used to do or say make a lot more sense, now that I've been around Tay."

Cody contemplated the idea of a Force-sensitive Mandalorian. He had to admit, the idea was rather novel.

"Was he human?" he didn't know why he was suddenly curious about Saa's past, but he was.

"No," Saa chuckled a bit. "_Yln'buir_ was Togorian," he turned his head and flashed a bright smile that caught some of the lanteren's light. "Absolutely no relation to Hella or Mrov, by the way. But, I suppose that's how I got such a soft spot for the overgrown furballs."

"What happened to Yln?" Cody wasn't sure if it was a polite thing to ask, but Saa didn't seem to mind the intrusive questions.

"He died shortly after my own _verd'goten_," Saa didn't offer any details, but Cody surmised that it didn't really matter; it seemed more important to Mandalorians to remember their dead for how they lived, not how they died. "I took his helmet, then, and went to make my own way into the world."

Saa lifted his head for a moment and contemplated the wide expanse of clear night sky and sparkling stars.

"There's not a day that goes by, that I don't miss him."

Cody couldn't even begin to fathom what it felt like to lose a father. Familial roles that were so ordinary to other people - father, mother, wife, husband - were completely foreign to the Republic clones. The reality of a father's love and the pain of his loss, made Cody feel rather cheated.

"How come you still consider Anobis your home?" Cody decided to change the topic; it was getting dangerously personal, regardless of his curiosity.

"What do you mean?" Saa seemed a bit baffled by the question.

"I thought all Mandalorians considered Mandalore their home."

"Oh, not at all," Saa chuckled a bit and Cody felt amazingly stupid. "To be Mandalorian, one is expected to follow the _Resol'nare_, or the Six Actions. We are to wear armor, speak Mando'a, defend ourselves and our families, contribute to the welfare of our clan, rally to the _Mand'alor_ when summoned, and raise our children in the Mandalorian ways. Nowhere in that, are we expected to give up our homeworld or even the cultural customs from where we came - if that, in any way, answers any questions you might have about why I still insist on celebrating Jornada Del Muerto."

"It does, sorta'," Cody admitted; he tried to hide his feelings of awkwardness with a shrug.

"It's different for every Mando. Some completely abandon the customs and cultures that they grew up with, like _Yln'buir_. Some were adopted well before they could start remembering their homeworlds, like Hella and Mrov. Some, like me, became Mando with the full knowledge of where they came from and where they wanted to call 'home.' Outside of the _Resol'nare_, there's no set guideline for what makes a Mando a Mando. We're all different, in our own unique ways."

Saa fell silent for a moment, as if thinking something over. Cody matched the older man's limping stride and pondered over everything that he was learning.

"We Mando are mostly nomadic and rarely set down roots in anyone place, as a cultural whole. Most who do, have chosen Mandalore as their home. But, that doesn't necessarily apply to all of us," Saa continued his explanation, his tone conversational and almost fatherly. "As a culture, we've also learned the wisdom of not putting all of our eggs in one basket, as it were," he chuckled a bit. "So, there's no shame in choosing another planet to call home, or even in setting down roots when one's wandering days are drawing to an end."

"Are yours, then?" Cody wondered out loud.

"I think so," Saa admitted after a moment of reflection. "I'm needed more here, than out there," he nodded his head toward the sky and wider galaxy beyond. "It's time for me to start passing down my knowledge and my father's knowledge, to the next generation of sons."

Cody felt a little uncomfortable. He stared at his boots and refused to look Saa in the eye.

"To Hella's sons?"

"I think I'll be dead, before she decides to get around to picking a mate and having children - biologically _or_ by adoption," Saa snorted, but there was genuine warmth in his words. "Felines are horrendously picky creatures, regardless of their size or precise species."

"You expect Tay to remarry and have younglings, then?"

"Perhaps, in time," Saa shrugged. "But, if Tay remarries - and, I hope, to a Mandalorian man - then he'll be passing down his own wisdom, not mine. Mando fathers teach their sons directly - it's part of their role, as Mandalorian men."

"You expect to have more sons, then?" Cody wanted to add "at your age?" but decided it might not be polite.

"Perhaps," Saa seemed suddenly evasive.

There was a lot that Cody could sense was being left unsaid, and he suddenly realized that Saa was sizing him up, and making no apologies about it. The thought scared him.

The clone hoped that Saa wasn't so desperate for sons, that he was willing to lower his standards. He was an honorable man, the son of an equally honorable Togorian - by the sounds of it, at least. Cody longed to have a father - didn't every clone? - but he knew he didn't deserve even a smidgen of Saa's regard or consideration.

He had no honor - that one thing that Saa seemed to believe was what made a man truly Mandalorian.

Cody had the scars to prove it - they were now lifelong reminders that he wasn't capable of living up to anyone's expectations.

Even the ones that had been drilled into him at birth.

* * *

Cody's darker thoughts lasted as long as it took him and Saa to walk the rest of the way back to Mydwyth. As they approached the village limits, light, laughter, music, and the smell of richly cooking food assaulted them on every level. It was hard to be gloomy, in the face of openly enthusiastic revelry.

Mydwyth was built in a circle, with a large, open area for gatherings, and festivals, and community events in the center. Two huge bonfires now blazed cheerfully in that communal center and every inch of the village teemed with movement. Cody drowned happily in a multitude of experiences that he had never encountered before.

Food abounded in amazing quantities - dishes, and tastes, and textures that Cody had never even imagined. Humans and Zabrak shouted, and laughed, and chattered all around him, the somber intensity of the day forgotten in the firelight and the celebration.

Here, the cycle of their day became clear. The mourning of their lost had been shared throughout the day, but at night, they turned their grief into happy abandonment. Death was given its due, but it was life that they celebrated, ultimately.

Cody realized that their grief and their acceptance of it, was what made them strong. Here, loss was accepted as a natural part of life - as ordinary as the harvest each autumn, or the culling of the herds each winter. There was no reason to bottle it up, or to shove it aside, or to deny it. There was no reason to drown one's sorrows in alcohol, or to cover it up with stims.

Death just _was_. And, in the end, it was life that meant the most.

"Uj cake?" Tay materialized out of the crowd and the darkness behind Cody, her face lit up in a radiant smile that put the bonfires to shame.

Her sudden appearance didn't startle Cody, who would usually have been jumpy in such an over-enthusiastic crowd. Caught up in the high spirits around him, he just looked down at his side and shared her smile.

"Sure!" he reached out his hand and Tay carefully placed one of the thick slices of cake that she had been balancing rather precariously in her own.

"What is it?" he wondered, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the singing that was being conducted close by.

"It's a Mandalorian dessert," Tay explained, her own voice fighting to be heard over the music of several others. "Compliments of Hella!"

At the mention of the Togorian's name, Cody glanced around and tried to spot her. She wasn't hard to find, even in a crowd of Zabrak that were almost as tall as she was. The orange-striped Togorian was demonstrating some sort of highly agile dance to a cluster of younglings, while Saa clapped the rhythm with his hands.

Cody grinned and leaned down toward Tay, so she could hear him better.

"Speaking of Hella, it's kinda' funny to see her showing off!"

"What's she doing?" Tay just laughed and didn't seemed at all bothered by the fact that she had to ask.

"Dancing...I think," Cody would have continued, but he took a bite of uj cake and forgot everything else.

It tasted rather like uj'Jayl syrup - thick, dark, rich, and deliciously sweet. The cake had a nutty undertone, though, and was spiced rather heavily with bits of dried fruit. The combination of textures and tastes burst across Cody's tongue and he nearly groaned in delight.

It took him a moment to open his eyes and realize that Tay was laughing at him.

"What?" he mumbled around what was left of his mouthful, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing," she ran a hand through her pure-white hair, and giggled. "It's just that I don't think I've met a trooper yet, who didn't love uj cake."

"Must be a Jango Fett trait," Cody smiled a bit himself and felt suddenly shy.

She was beautiful - _especially_ when she laughed. The bonfires threw a kaleidescope of colors across her gold headband and at that moment, Cody didn't mind that she didn't have eyes. The headband seemed a natural part of her - an elegant fashion statement, rather than an attempt to hide wasn't natural to so many other sentients. She seemed to glow in the firelight and her choice of clothing colors - her usual hues of blue, and white, and purple - seemed to accentuate the delicate translucence of her skin.

He snuck quite a few, lingering glances at her, as they ate their uj cake in companionable silence. Tay was very different from most of the female Jedi he'd ever encountered - she was softer and rounder, her curves far more apparent.

The memory of her leg flashed through his mind; she was definitely toned, but being toned hadn't sacrificed her curves, as it seemed to have done on many other females that he could recall. She was certainly as different from Jaria, too, as night was from day. Tay was short - barely reaching the top of Cody's shoulders - and she carried herself as if she were a queen. Her face was round and her features endearingly dainty - Cody admired the flush that had crept into her cheeks.

He wondered, absently, if her skin would flush like that in other places.

_Don't even..._ he mentally kicked himself and he turned away, suddenly awkward, and stuffed the last of the uj cake into his mouth before he succumbed to the urge to say something stupid.

As usual, Tay seemed to sense his "disturbance" and he caught her considering him out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, her face seemed to reflect the confusion that he felt.

_Do I really project that much?_

But, then she smiled and grabbed his arm.

"Dance with me!" she turned her face toward the bonfires, where a line of celebrating Zabrak and humans were joining hands.

"Wha-huh?" Cody was instantaneously caught off guard. "Have you been drinking?" he demanded accusingly, as he tried to dig his heels into the frozen ground underneath his boots.

It was the only reason he could think of, that could possibly possess a Jedi to dance. All the same, he was a bit surprised when she said "yes".

"A bit, I suppose," she giggled a bit breathlessly. "Hella brought a bottle of Mandallian Narcolethe and I gave it a try," she grinned impishly. "Or two."

"Well, there's only one way you're going to get me to dance, and it's not with your stunning good looks," Cody crossed his arms mulishly.

"Oh, and how's that?"

It was suddenly hard to concentrate, as Tay leaned her lush body against his side. Cody's thoughts derailed for a moment, but he stubbornly wrestled them back on track. It helped that he lifted his head and searched for succor in the stars, and not at her smiling face.

"I've been trying to avoid the alcohol all night, but if you want me to dance, you'll let me get a few drinks in me, first."

Tay fell silent and Cody mentally kicked himself.

_Now, why did you have to go and bring _that _up?_

He risked a glance in her direction and saw - with some surprise - that she seemed to be considering the idea.

_How much has she had to drink, exactly?_

But, then she shook her head. Instead of looking solemn, though, her face dimpled in another impish grin.

"I don't think that'd be a very good idea, considering. But," she reached up and tapped his chest. "You feel sore and tired. If you dance with me," she turned her face up toward him, suddenly all coy and innocent. "I'll give you a massage."

It took Cody exactly three seconds to make up his mind.

"Deal."

Without another word, Tay dragged him, laughing, into a dancing line of bodies and firelight.

* * *

About an hour later, they collapsed onto a pile of rugs and pillows that had been set around the edges of the bonfires for the comfort of those who no longer wanted to move, or stand, or dance. They were both breathless and laughing - Cody hadn't ever felt so carefree before in his life. The enthusiasm and vitality of the village around him was hard to resist, and to be truthful, he didn't even try. It was easier to give himself up the sense of reckless abandonment and infectious celebration.

The rush he felt from dancing, and laughing, and trying to sing in a foreign language he didn't even begin to understand, was better than anything he'd ever felt before. Better than the rush of battle, better than the rush of alcohol, better than the rush of stims.

Tay didn't waste any time in making good on her promise. After untangling herself from Cody - they had both collapsed in a bit of a tumbled heap - she knelt behind him and slipped her cool hands underneath the collar of his dark-green tunic.

He'd tossed his jacket at Saa, somewhere in the middle of all the dancing. At the current moment, neither Saa nor Hella could be found, but it didn't seem to matter. They were having fun, wherever they were in the crowd, and Cody's thoughts quickly abandoned him as Tay's hands worked firmly at the knots that the day's work had left behind in his shoulders.

They were both silent for a long time, as the celebrations continued in full swing around them. Eventually, it all became a dim noise on the periphery of Cody's senses - the world had sharply narrowed down to just him and Tay.

Her hands worked with a healer's certain touch. Bit by bit, the tension in his shoulders and his back eased away underneath her nimble fingers and Cody drifted along in the warm sensation of another's skin against his. As the moments slipped by, her touch became increasingly intimate - she began to message his neck, then his scalp and then his temples.

And Cody didn't even once think to stop her. He leaned against her, and enjoyed the feeling of her breasts as they pressed warm and full against his back. Another sort of pleasant buzz was starting to replace the endorphins raised by dancing and before he quite knew what was happening, her breath was sighing softly against the side of his neck and her hands had fallen still against his shoulders.

"Why'd ya' stop?" he turned his face toward hers and realized - a little too late - that it had put him in an unexpected position.

Her lips were just inches away from his - Cody couldn't help but notice how full and soft they looked. His eyes locked onto them and suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter, except what now teetered precariously between them.

"Tay...?" he whispered, suddenly uncertain.

And yet, at the same time, he was quite certain of what he wanted.

She answered by cupping his cheek in her hand and pressing her lips against his.

Cody meant to keep it chaste and he pulled back just a few seconds later, before they could go any deeper into uncharted territory. But, then he ran his tongue across his lips and tasted a heady mixture of uj cake and alcohol, and his resolve crumpled spectacularly.

This time, _he_ kissed _her,_ and there was nothing chaste about it.

Tay opened her mouth willingly, when he ran his tongue against her bottom lip, and Cody thought he'd drown in the taste of her. She tasted first like uj cake and then like some sort of exotic whiskey, and the later tossed all of his inhibitions into the fire.

He turned his body more towards her, as he dared to hold her face in his hands. And, he _ravished_ her.

Time and place and _breath _suddenly seemed of very little importance. Her hands moved restlessly across his chest, until she finally grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and held on tightly as if he was the only thing that was keeping her from shattering into a million tiny pieces. She whimpered slightly against his mouth and he growled in response, his hands falling to her waist as he pulled her more firmly against his body.

Cody wasn't sure what had made him lose control so suddenly. Maybe it was the dancing, maybe it was the carefree carousing around them. Maybe it was the firelight, maybe it was feelings that had been conflicting him all day.

Whatever the reason, Cody no longer cared. He wanted the woman - Jedi or not - that was pressed so very willingly into his arms. She was that was all that mattered to him, anymore.

But, as he paused briefly between the end of one scorching kiss and the start of the next, a single word threw cold water against his rising passions.

"Del..." she whispered.

And he suddenly realized that, if she had been any other being besides a Miraluka, that he would have been tasting tears mixed in with their kiss.

* * *

"I met him while working at a Republic Mobile Surgical Unit stationed on Mygeeto," Tay sat a little ways away from Cody and the distance yawned like a chasm between them.

It had taken every ounce of selfless determination to let her go. It took even more to gently encourage her to share her memories with him, of a man he didn't dare to replace.

Cody hadn't meant to kiss her, but he had. Even as she talked about her dead husband, his body yearned for the taste of her mouth and for the feel of her body. He felt lower than dirt - lower than he had in several weeks, in fact – and he berated himself silently for his loss of control.

It was bad enough that he hadn't done a single redeeming thing to deserve her touch, or her kiss. He had killed Jedi, not much different than her. He had allowed innocents to die under his watch. The screams of Bellassa now echoed louder than ever in his ears.

But, even worse than all of that, was that he had kissed a woman who still very clearly grieved the loss of her husband. It seemed that every breath he took, just gave further proof to the knowledge that he was a man without any sort of honor.

"I never really knew what he'd been doing, to be hurt so badly, but I guess it doesn't really matter, now," Tay had her legs drawn up to her chest and she had her arms wrapped around her knees as she faced the fire. "We should have sent him to a medship, but he insisted that a few bacta patches would set him straight. Whatever he was doing on Mygeeto, it was important to him - he didn't want to lose a moment of fighting."

She smiled, sadly.

"Del was like that - a strange mixture of impatience and boyish bravado. I managed to make him sit long enough for me to meditate over the worse of his wounds and then he was off. I'll never know where, or to do what. But, he made an impression on me," she echoed Saa's very own words. "And I wondered about him for weeks. I was always afraid he'd show up again, beyond any hope of saving.

"He did finally come around again, but except for a few new scars, he seemed just fine. He came by to thank me," she laid her cheek on her arm; the gesture was sadly poignant. "He later admitted that I made quite an impression on him as well - he said I wasn't like 'other Jedi', that I wasn't afraid to get feisty at him when he gave me attitude. I guess that surprised him.

"I never really met mainstream Jedi. Master Altis didn't mingle with them and those of us who followed him, avoided contact with the rest of the Order. Our ideas were 'radical' - we encouraged emotion, and attachment, and love. We weren't ashamed to be imperfect and that set us apart.

"In the end, it's what earned Del's respect," Tay's eyes never drifted away from the fire, and Cody felt strangely cold and empty. "He was on Mygeeto for some time - a few months, at least. But, every so often, he'd make it a point to come by the RMSU, usually banged up in some fashion or another. I often wondered if he went looking for droids and trouble, so he'd feel that he had an excuse to drop by again."

Her smile was sad. Cody just sat and listened, his own thoughts twisted and conflicted.

"The night before he left Mygeeto for good, he came by the RMSU. This time, he wasn't hurt and I'll never forget the _feel _he had about him, when we met outside the surgery tent. Del had this _feel_, like he'd made his mind up about something," Tay's smile seemed even more forlorn and she glanced at Cody for the first time. "You had that same feel about you, just now."

Cody wasn't sure what she meant by saying that, but it only made him feel like a lower life form. It also stirred something dark and ugly inside of him - a fear that he refused to acknowledge, so long as she was sharing her past with him.

"We slept together, that night," Tay turned her face back toward the fire. "Del was my first. He, however, demonstrated a rather amazing amount of worldly knowledge, so I don't suppose I was his first, or even his second."

She didn't seem to mind; if anything, her voice had a slightly amused note to it. The sound of it cut deep into Cody's soul.

"It broke my heart to see him go, the next morning. He slipped out before the rest of the camp even had a chance to stir. He called me '_cyar'ika_' - "beloved" - and told me to keep an eye out for him - 'I'll be back before you even know I'm right behind you', he told me. He slapped my bum before he left, the cheeky _chakaar,_" the memory made her truly smile; something a giggle made her cheeks flush for just a moment or two. "But, he was true to his word. Del was like that, too.

"I'd never know when he'd pop up again. Sometimes it was just days, sometimes it was months. But it didn't matter where I went - RMSU, or medship, or medstar - he'd find his way back to me, beat up, and alarmingly bloody, and cracking jokes as if nothing was wrong. He had an enthusiasm for life and an unflagging sense of humor, that didn't seem to dim no matter how long the war went on.

"He contacted me by comlink out of the blue one day - it was the middle of the war by then. I think he was on Felucia that time; I was on a medstar in Drongar's orbit. He asked me to marry him and five minutes later, I was a Mandalorian's Jedi wife."

Pain, sorrow, and longing flashed in quick succession across her face. Her fleeting smile from before was long gone, as she laid her cheek back down on her forearm again and sighed.

"Master Altis laughed so hard, he cried, when I finally managed to get a hold of him, to tell him. I asked him if he was worried about me - after all, there were any number of concerns unique to being the Jedi wife of a clone ARC trooper. But, he just told me that the Force knew what it was doing and that he looked forward to meeting Del one day.

"He never got the chance," she squeezed her eyes shut, and Cody resisted the urge to reach out and pull her back into his arms. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that the last year of the War was the hardest of all. Causalities were at an all-time high and I got stationed permanently on a medship in Felucia's orbit, to try and help stem the tide of casualties just from that one planet.

"Del found me there, too. The last time we were together - just three months before the end of the War - he left me pregnant," she shifted, pressing her hands almost unconsciously against her stomach.

Cody couldn't bear to look at her anymore. He stared miserably into the fire and fiddled with the fraying edge of his tunic.

"I wanted to tell Del, but I knew things were getting bad, so I waited until he'd show up again and I could tell him in person. I never got the chance," her voice shook and Cody suddenly wished she'd stop. "Order 66 happened so _fast._..."

Her voice trailed off and for several long, awful minutes, she said nothing. Dancing, and laughter, and revelry still whirled about around them, but instead of drawing joy from it, like before, Cody found it a mocking backdrop to the sorrow that had settled between them.

"I miscarried shortly after Saa got me safely here, to Anobis. I was almost four months pregnant with my son," her voice was so soft, that Cody had to strain his ears to hear her. "Del died the same hour as his son; I felt them both just slip away from the Force.

"I never even got a chance to name my little boy. I'd been waiting for Del to do it."

Her words echoed the horrible emptiness of her heart. Cody floundered in the wake of her pain, unable to even think of a single thing to express his sympathy in a meaningful manner.

"Saa helped..." she paused, and suddenly struggled to find the right word that would mask the terrible reality of her loss. "He helped...bury him," Tay finally settled on a word, but it was awkward and painful. "He named the baby for me. 'Ka'rta' - it means 'heart'. I told him that I felt like I'd lost mine, that day."

* * *

Hella found them a little later and seemed a bit shocked when Tay quietly asked her to escort her home. The Togorian glared at Cody, as if challenging him to admit what he had done to make Tay so sad. Regardless of what the Togorian might have felt about Tay and her mysterious past, Hella seemed protective on principle alone.

"You better have a good explanation, _Dar'manda_," she hissed under her breath, before hurrying to catch up with Tay, who had already started toward home on her own.

Cody continued to sit in front of the fire for a long time after, his head hidden between his arms, which he had propped up on his knees. Somewhere toward the middle of the night, an effusive celebrant offered him a shot of some sort of amber-colored alcohol.

Cody couldn't place it, but he also didn't care. He took the offered drink and tossed it back without a second thought. A familiar burn warmed the back of his throat and he was immediately reminded of the same taste, that he had sampled earlier on Tay's lips.

For a second, he debated whether or not to get up and seek out another drink. But the taste lingered on his tongue and with it, the memory of Tay's soft body and willing kiss.

And, with a sinking gut, Cody realized that he could drown himself in alcohol from then until doomsday, and he'd never drink enough that could make him forget of the taste of her tongue.

So, he hauled himself to his feet and turned his back on the dancing and singing, which was still going strong around the bonfires. And as the stars of Jornada Del Muerto began to fade along the horizon, Cody trudged back toward Tay's little home, alone, through the bitter cold and the darkness.

There was no sense in trying to deny what he had done. He had lost his control and over-stepped his boundary.

He had made her _cry_, in her Miralukan way.

And, there was nothing he could do about it, except to man up to it, and hope like hell that she'd forgive him.


	12. Waiting For the End1

_"This is not the end / This is not the beginning / Just a voice like a riot / Rocking every revision. / But you listen to the tone / And to the violent rhythm; / Though the words sound steady / Something's empty within 'em."  
_

**Linkin Park  
"Waiting For the End"**

**

* * *

**

Things were distinctly awkward the next morning, Cody decided. Of course, "awkward" was a bit of an understatement, but it was the best word he knew to describe the absolute _silence_ that prevailed.

Saa sat on his stool and leaned his elbows on the island counter, while nursing a cup of hot, fresh caf. A cup of the "good stuff" seemed to be the older Mando's breakfast of choice; Cody rummaged through the cupboards for a few minutes, at a total loss for what to feed himself.

Tay was no where to be seen. Usually, she was up at least a good half-hour before the men; by the time they shuffled out into the kitchen, still tousled and sticky-eyed from sleep, she had tea boiling, eggs frying, and milk set out on the counter.

This morning was conspicuous in it's lack of the industrious Jedi and her frying food.

Cody finally just settled for a cup of caf - it was easier than trying to forage for food, and he knew better than to try and cook anything for himself. His stomach was sour, anyway; that single shot of amber liquor hadn't settled well overnight.

Or, at least, Cody blamed his feeling of general unease on the alcohol. It was easier to blame the whiskey, than his own complicated feelings for Tay.

"Where's Hella?" he finally dared to breach the silence, as he eased onto the stool next to Saa.

The clone glanced over his shoulder, furtively, as if half-expecting the Togorian mercenary to pounce on him out of the shadows. He was mildly surprised to find that she hadn't been sitting in the kitchen, arms crossed judgmentally across her chest, waiting to demand answers for Tay's hasty retreat the night before.

"She's run back to the capitol for me," Saa replied; his tone was surprisingly conversational, despite the awkward emptiness that had settled into the quiet kitchen. "I asked her to pick up some things for me."

Cody made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement and laid his elbows on the counter in mimic of the man next to him. For a few long minutes, the two just drank their caf and Cody tried not to fidget. Saa finally got around to asking the obvious - Cody had known almost instinctively that the question would be asked.

"Before she left, Hella did ask me to ask you about something."

Cody pointedly refused to look up from his caf, even though he knew that Saa was watching him closely.

"What's that?" the clone demanded of his mug, refusing to turn his head and meet Saa's gaze.

"She wanted to know what you'd done to hurt Tay."

The choice of words hit Cody almost as hard as a blow - "hurt". He hadn't meant to hurt Tay; it was truly the farthest thing from his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to hang his head in obvious shame.

It had just sort of happened, the kiss. In fact, _Tay_ had initiated it, he reminded himself. And he had tried to pull back, before it had gone any further. It had been the taste of her lips, that had lured him back in for more.

It had been the sweetness of uj cake and the familiar smokiness of whiskey, that had made him move in for more.

Uj cake and whiskey.

Always whiskey.

Cody finally hung his head. It didn't matter what form it took - whiskey always made him lose control.

"Well, I suppose I should be glad you're not trying to deny it, at least," Saa's clipped tone cut through Cody's thoughts.

He finally lifted his head, opened his eyes, and risked a look at the older Mando. Saa's look was faintly disapproving, but his lips were pursed in a manner that could have almost been mistaken for amusement.

"That was quite some kiss,_ Dar'manda_," Saa's wry commentary was about the last thing Cody had expected to hear.

He blinked, flummoxed.

"Though, I oughta' shoot ya'."

Cody flushed and dropped his gaze. He nervously ran his fingers through his hair - a trait he'd picked up a long time ago, probably from General Kenobi. He noted, absently, that his hair was getting long again; it wasn't exactly out of military regs just yet, but it was several inches too long for his long-established tastes.

"I wouldn't blame you," he replied quietly, speaking into his caf again. "I'm an idiot."

"I won't deny that you're a kriffin' _di'kut_," Saa snorted. "But, my objection is more from the fact that you had the balls to kiss a Mando woman before you were worthy of the honor. Not exactly that you did it."

It took Cody a few seconds to really work out what Saa was trying to say. Flabbergasted, he looked over at his breakfast companion and sputtered.

"What?"

What he meant to say was, "what do you mean." But, a single word was the best that he could manage, considering the circumstances. He just gaped at Saa, completely stumped.

It was at that moment that he decided that Saa was absolutely unpredictable. There was no conceivable way to humanly predict what the man was going to say in any given situation; Cody decided it was best that maybe he just stop trying to figure the mercenary out. Every time he thought he had, his expectations got dashed.

"Tay needs a good kiss," Saa declared, completely unperturbed by Cody's astonishment. "She needs a good man, too, to mess up her sheets, if you catch my meaning."

Cody just...stared.

"The Force designed that woman to love, just as certainly as those thrice-damned aiwha-bait designed you to kill," Saa reached out and poked a finger into Cody's chest, as if to underline his point. "Losing Del and Kar'ika was the worst thing that could have happened to her. The absolute worst."

Saa sat back and puffed his chest out; Cody was reminded of Sazen, when talking about his newborn daughter. He recognized the reaction as what it was - a father's pride.

"I knew she'd survive and carry on - she's Mando _and_ _Jetii_. But, she shocked me when she took you in," Saa paused and looked Cody over, his expression hard and calculating.

It was a look that he remembered well - the same look that Saa had given him so long ago, when Tay had first pulled him away from the bar. Back when Saa was just an ordinary bartender, a fleeting extra in the dark tableau of Cody's alcohol-soaked existence.

Looking back, now, it seemed almost surreal, how things had progressed. Tay wasn't a faceless stranger, watching him from a crowd, like some passing angel of mercy. And Saa had transformed from the man who fed his addiction, to a fierce role-model who had taken it upon himself to shape a better man.

Cody wondered what Saa thought, from his end. Could any of them have predicted where Tay's kindness would have taken them? If someone had told him, six months earlier, that he would have been given a chance at a life outside of the Anobian mines, outside of the exile of a deserter, outside of stims and whiskey - he would have laughed.

And yet, here he was. Clean, washed, rested. With a hot mug of caf between his hands and the taste of a woman's lips still lingering against his tongue.

"What shocks me even more, is that you seem up to the challenge of finally being a man," Saa narrowed his eyes, but it was an expression of contemplation, not judgment. "I think you should kiss Tay like that more often and I think you should be the man to mess up her sheets."

Cody could feel his cheeks flushing red from the implications of Saa's boldly spoken words.

"But -"

Despite his embarrassment, Cody had braced for that pivotal qualifier.

"I don't think either one of you is ready."

The clone's ears burned; He didn't need to ask what Saa meant. He looked away and finally admitted what had gone so terribly wrong.

"She called me 'Del'."

"Hmph," Saa grunted - it was _not_ a sound of surprise. "I suspected something like that had happened. I saw the two of you pull away from each other, like someone had come up behind and thrown ice down your tunics."

Cody glanced back at Saa, just long enough to convey a look of disapproval.

"Just how long were you watching?"

"Long enough," Saa shrugged, completely unconcerned by Cody's mild indignation. "And don't look at me like I'm some sort of spying pervert. That's what you get for making out in a public place. People _notice_."

Cody bit back a groan of despair.

_Fantastic_, he felt like slapping himself in the forehead, but resisted the urge. _Who else 'noticed'?_

He hadn't thought about that. Apparently, the realization dawning across his face was clear, because Saa snorted.

"Let me put it to you this way," the merc's tone was dry. "The neighbors'll be talkin'. You just better be glad Hella didn't see. She might not like Tay much, but she's protective of the clan, regardless of her personal feelings. You're lucky you haven't been married at blaster point."

Cody sputtered. Again. He seemed to be doing that a lot, this morning.

"You _must_ be exaggerating."

"Nope," Saa shook his head and his jaw jutted stubbornly. "Togorians are notoriously conservative when it comes to their affections. Kissing in a public manner like that - if it ever actually happens, mind you - is a sign of having chosen their mate.

"Thankfully, the rest of the galaxy doesn't quite think that way," Saa continued, as if he hadn't seen the look of thunderstruck disbelief that crossed Cody's face. "Or, I'd have about a hundred wives or so by now."

Saa's wry humor drew Cody up short and he just sat in silence. And stared.

Saa, on the other hand, just scratched the back of his neck and took a sip of his caf, as if nothing he'd said was unusual. He continued talking, his tone casually conversational.

"In any event, it doesn't matter much who saw and who didn't. Damage is done," he shrugged, but Cody could tell that even if Saa's body language belied the seriousness of the discussion, the mercenary's feelings on the topic on hand were anything but casual. "What you need to focus on now, is what you're gonna' do."

The look Cody got was piercing and horribly unsettling. The clone squirmed a bit on his seat and lowered his gaze, to contemplate the top of the counter.

"Any words of wisdom?" he finally asked after a moment of silence.

"Nope," Saa was brutally blunt; Cody felt as if a last hope had been pulled out from under him.

He propped one of his elbows up on the counter and groaned as he hid his face in his hand.

"Don't think I need to point out that Tay's not ready for anything, yet," Saa stated the obvious, all the same. "And neither are you."

"You think I should be Mandalorian, first?" Cody mumbled into his hand.

"Yes."

"I fail to see how being a Mandalorian makes a difference," the clone continued to talk half-way into the heel of his palm.

"I think that by the time I've decided to stop calling you _'Dar'manda'_, Tay might have reached her own point of acceptance over Del," Saa's tone changed; his words were spoken carefully and Cody turned his head, to cradle his cheek in his hand and to watch the older man talk. "So, that has something to do with it. Otherwise," the Mandalorian shrugged and winked at Cody. "I'll admit it's just the principle of the matter."

His expression shifted yet again and he was back to being serious, if not out-right intense. Cody shifted a bit underneath Saa's pointed gaze.

"Tay accepted Del's Mando heritage, when she married him. By claiming Del as my 'brother' and by being claimed by him return, he became a part of Clan Par'jain. Tay became a part of the _aliit _the moment she accepted the responsibility of being Del's wife. That makes her Mandalorian in my book, even if she hasn't quite yet brought it upon herself to follow all of the _Resol'nare_ and give up her _Jetii _ways."

Saa paused and the two men considered each other quietly for a minute.

"She's a fine woman and she'll make a fine mother - _Jetii_ or not. I'd hate to see that wasted on a _dar'manda _or an _aruetii_," Saa arched an eyebrow. "And in the absence of other choices, I suppose you'll have to make the cut."

He softened his words with a half-smile and Cody just shook his head. Saa's humor was weird and a little cutting; but it was growing on him. Slowly.

"Sometimes, I think you're too much of an optimist, Saa," Cody sighed heavily and shook his head.

There was a lot of hope left unspoken in the merc's words. Hope that Cody could possibly fulfill his expectations as a Mandalorian. Hope that Tay could see beyond her husband's ghost.

Saa's answer surprised Cody. But, then again, he supposed he'd better get used to that.

"One has to be an optimist, to live this long," the Mando flashed Cody a roguish grin and thumped him soundly on the shoulder. "It's the only way to keep from going crazy."

* * *

Tay appeared about thirty minutes later, her demeanor subdued. She remained that way for the rest of the day, and both Saa and Cody let her be, for the most part. Cody, too intensely awkward, said very little to Tay, outside of the usual basics of conversation, and she said very little in return. Their interactions throughout the day were silent and fragile; they both knew what needed to be discussed, but neither one of them was willing to bring up what had happened.

Cody, especially, didn't want to be the first one to address the metaphorical bantha in the room. He still hadn't come to terms with what he felt for Tay and he still wasn't ready to admit that the whisper of Del's name had cut what little confidence he had to the quick.

The two danced around each other for about three days; ironically, it was _Saa_, who got fed up the fastest.

They were all sitting in the living room, when the merc finally snapped. Cody was sitting by the fire, as he usually did in the evenings, working on what was left of the chess set. Most of the pawns has been finished, and Cody had decided to start working on the court pieces for the 7th Sky Corps. Carving came almost as second nature to him (he'd started to wonder if it had been one of Jango Fett's less violent past-times), so he had started the king piece by himself, while Saa finished up the last of the 501st pawns.

They had just settled down in front of the fire and picked up their knives, when something beeped from the depths of Saa's pockets.

"Must be Hella," the older merc mumbled, as he fished, one-handed, inside of the largest pocket on the leg of his pants.

Cody was distracted momentarily, as Tay glided into the room; his eyes never left her, as he watched her settled gracefully down in her customary spot on the couch. Saa suddenly grunted and stood up.

"I'm going to lock the two of you in a bedroom and mysteriously loose the key," he announced crisply.

Cody turned his head and stared up at the Mando patriarch, momentarily flummoxed. The tips of his ears burned red, but Saa just shot him an exasperated look and rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to go answer this," he waved the beeping com-link in the air. "And when I come back, the two of you had better have sorted out your issues."

He stalked, stiff-legged, past Tay - who had looked up from her audio holobook, her expression a perfect match of Cody's - and made a beeline for the kitchen.

"Either work this out, or I'll tie the two of you together until you do!" he disappeared into the kitchen, muttering something about _atin_ _Jetiise_ and _di'kulta_ _dar'manda_ under his breath.

Tay slowly turned her face toward Cody and for a moment, the two of them faced each other, their expressions both distinctly chagrined. A bright flush colored the bridge of Tay's nose and Cody was starting to think that his ears were on fire; finally, the two dropped their faces and the clone turned over the wooden block in his hands, as if searching for the right words to begin.

"I'm sorry," they both said, in tandem.

A ghost of a smile danced around the corners of Cody's mouth, as he risked a sideways glance at Tay. The smile disappeared quickly, though, when he saw that her brows were pulled together as if in pain. Her face was turned down toward her hands and she fidgeted with the holobook. Once or twice, she opened her mouth as if to speak, but then seemed to think better of it and closed her lips again.

"I shouldn't have kissed you," Cody finally took the initiative.

He looked back down at his own hands, too ashamed to look at her any more. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, before leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees.

"I started it," Tay admitted softly; Cody resisted the urge to look over at her again.

He focused on the knife in his hands and didn't say what he was thinking.

_It doesn't matter. I should have stopped it._

He remembered the taste of her again - uj cake and alcohol. He pushed a sigh out through his teeth and closed his eyes, his hands going still as he tried to deny the memories that clammered for attention.

Silence fell between them, again, as they struggled to find the words they both needed to hear. Cody was well above his comfort zone - it was all he could do to continue sitting in front of the fire. He had no reference point for this; none at all. No other experience in his short life had prepared him for this - not even Jaria.

_Jaria._

She'd thought all clones were the same and had refused to see Cody for what his own individuality could offer her. Cody couldn't help but feel, now, that Tay wasn't any better.

_"Del..."_

The whisper of her clone husband's name echoed in his ears. Anger flashed through Cody's blood, as fierce and as hot as the fire crackling next to him.

He should have known better - Jedi seemed particularly attuned to picking up negative emotions. Though, for once, Tay misinterpreted the catalyst for Cody's spike in emotion.

"Don't be angry about kissing -"

"I'm not angry about kissing you," Cody responded a little more abruptly than he had intended.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The sudden flux of anger had taken him by surprise. Usually, thoughts of Jaria left him depressed and overwhelmed - this was a first. The thought that maybe Tay wasn't any better, left him feeling agitated and raw. The comparison of the two in his mind infuriated him, for more reasons than he was willing to admit.

As did the comparison to other men. Men who were the same to him, _but not at all identical_.

"I'm angry about Del," Cody gripped the hilt of his knife tightly and fixed his glare on the woven rug under his bare feet. "_I_ kissed you...and you thought about _him_."

"You're the first man I've kissed since...since Del died," Tay sounded hurt, but Cody was still angry.

He looked at the floor and refused to look at her.

"That doesn't matter to me," he retorted mulishly, his tone petulant.

"It matters to _me_," Tay shot back.

For several seconds after that, they were both silent. Cody fumed, frustrated by the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

Depression, he had learned to handle. Fatalism, suicide, self-loathing, addiction...those were all feelings and psychological reactions that he'd learned to cope with. But, anger was a new one.

Anger...and _jealousy_.

"You're angry because I said Del's name," Tay finally spoke after a moment, her tone a little calmer.

"No, I'm angry because we're both the same to you," Cody couldn't help the venom that seeped into his words.

He started carving again - anything to keep his hands occupied. Anything to take his mind off of the sense of betrayal that he felt afresh.

"You're _not_, though -" Tay began, but Cody cut her off.

"But, we_ are_," he finally lifted his head and looked at her.

She expression was hurt and almost a little outraged. But, then again, Jaria had looked the same. Too proud to admit that maybe he was over-reacting, Cody just squared his jaw stubbornly and continued.

"You wouldn't have said Del's name, if I didn't remind you of him."

There was a long pause and Tay seemed to be struggling with something. Cody just watched, hurt himself, and unable to reach out to her or to say whatever could be said to make things better.

"It's not that simple, Cody," her voice was soft again, his name something of a caress.

He flinched and looked away.

"_Any_ man would remind me of Del. I haven't let him go; not really. I realize that, now."

Her quiet admission took some of the steam out of Cody's anger. The muscles along the side of his jaw twitched, as he flicked his wrist and made several smooth lines along the edge of the wood in his hand. He wasn't even really paying attention to what he was carving, at this point. Even if he wouldn't look at her, all of his attention was focused on the Miraluka sitting on the couch to his right and on her softly-spoken words.

"I thought maybe, that I had," she continued, her voice preoccupied, belying how deeply she was thinking, even as she spoke. "It's been a year and I've known for a while that it's time for me to move on..."

Her voice trailed off and Cody just whittled away in silence. He was so absorbed in his own, conflicted thoughts, that he didn't hear the rustle of skirts that heralded Tay's movements across the living room floor. He jerked a bit - more out of surprise than anything else - when a gentle hand gripped his shoulder.

Startled, Cody looked up at her. The firelight played off of her headband, painting it a flickering reddish gold as the flames danced and sparked. The glow from the flames flushed the skin of her cheeks and Cody was caught - yet again - by how _beautiful _she was.

When confronted so closely by her face and her body, it was hard for Cody to remember how she reminded him of Jaria. The expression on her face was earnest and heart-wrenchingly contrite; he didn't need eyes, to look into her soul. Tay had a gift for portraying all of her emotions clearly, in her face, in her voice, in her body language, in the way she moved her hands.

He remembered Jaria and how she had blustered when he'd confronted her about her infidelity. She had mimicked his own anger and hadn't shown an ounce of apology in her body language. The contrast between the two women was startling, now that he took a moment to step back and consider it. Tay didn't run from his accusations and she didn't try to deny them; she accepted his anger and tried to explain it, without denying the consequences of her actions.

He was suddenly ashamed for being angry at her, but the hurt inside of him didn't lessen. He looked back at his hands, but didn't start carving again. They stayed there, like that, for a long moment - her hand felt warm through the thin fabric of his tunic and he kept his head bowed, waiting patiently for her to speak again.

Tay seemed to sense that his anger had ebbed for the moment. She didn't try to touch any other part of him, but her hand stayed steady against his shoulder.

"I _am_ attracted to you, Cody. I kissed you first, after all. I just..." her voice trailed off, uncertain.

Cody squeezed his eyes shut and finished her thought in his own, awkward words.

"I don't want to be a replacement for Del."

"Nor should you be," she didn't deny the truth of what he implied and she didn't avoid what had to be said.

She was direct. He had to respect her for that, if nothing else.

"I don't want you to be a replacement. I don't want _anyone_ to be a replacement. It's why I've been...alone...this past year. I could have sought solace in someone else - Saa, even, if I had wanted. But, it wouldn't have been right. I won't use anyone for my own selfish comforts."

Cody had the fleeting thought that wanting to seek comfort in someone else wasn't necessarily selfish - just, _human_. He had wanted "comfort" after breaking things off with Jaria; he'd subconsciously wanted "comfort" during his recovery from addiction. He wanted "comfort", _now_, in fact.

But, like her, he denied himself. Was it so wrong, then, that they'd kissed? Could he blame her for trying to reach out? He'd reciprocated, after all.

And, Tay had admitted to being attracted to him. So, there was hope, after all. Maybe?

Cody was confused. On one hand, he was angry and hurt by Tay's slip. He had no desire to be compared to another man - most especially, another _clone_. He didn't want to stand in the shadow of a man who'd been dead for a year - late husband or not. On the other hand, he wanted Tay. He couldn't pretend that he didn't. He realized, with a flash of jealous desire, that he agreed with Saa - he wanted to be the one who "messed up her sheets."

He struggled quietly with himself, his hand and body still underneath her touch. There wasn't any easy solution to what had happened between them and there weren't any easy answers to solve the pain that cut them both.

"I don't think we should push each other away," Tay broke gently into his thoughts. "If only for Saa's peace of mind."

Her humor was subtle, but Cody caught it and made a slight noise of amusement in the back of his throat. He tried to joke back, his voice low.

"I don't know," he shrugged slightly. "It might be kinda' interesting to be tied together."

Tay's chuckle was soft. But, it was _there_.

"I need to sort myself out," she continued, quietly. "And I think you do, too. It takes time to let go of the past. Even for soldiers and Jedi."

* * *

"Pack your bags, Dar'manda. We're goin' to Tatooine," Saa announced completely out of the blue, after stepping back into the living room.

Tay had drifted back to her couch and silence had settled down between her and Cody yet again. This time, though, some of their wounds had been lanced. Nothing had really been solved, but they had at least recognized what had gone wrong and accepted that there weren't any easy solutions.

Tay still longed for Del and Cody still resented the fact. But, at least they both knew the depth of each other's emotions. She knew Cody had been hurt; Cody knew that she hadn't done it on purpose.

For now, that was good enough for both of them. Their paths to healing were their own to walk; at least, some sense of hope was left from their forced confrontation. Tay had admitted to being attracted to Cody, even if she wasn't certain of her desires. Cody could respect that - even if she told him that she could never get over Del, at least he was certain, now, that she wouldn't use him like Jaria had.

They had been wrapped up in their own private thoughts, when Saa meandered back into the room. But, the atmosphere had changed from awkward to simply introspective. Saa seemed to sense that, since he paused for a moment, looked from one to the other, and simply grunted, as if pleased by the unspoken truce that had been established.

That's when he bluntly announced his intentions to head off-world. Tay dropped her holobook in complete shock and Cody just lifted his head and stared.

"What?" Tay finally managed the ability to form words, though her voice came out in an uncharacteristic squeak.

Cody fought the urge to laugh at the way her voice had cracked. It was so unlike the Jedi's usual composure, that it struck him as funny.

"Just heard from Hella," Saa waved his com-link once again, before slipping it back into his pants pocket.

He limped toward the back of the couch and put a comforting hand on Tay's shoulder.

"My father-in-law is dying," Saa sighed, his demeanor suddenly heavy; his shoulders slumped a bit, as if a great weight had just settled there. "He's been ill for some time, but I dropped off the grid, when we left the capitol. My brother-in-law has only now been able to contact Hella - she just passed on the word."

He patted Tay one last time on the shoulder and then limped toward his chair by the fire, across from Cody. He eased himself down with a groan and then ran his fingers through his graying, reddish-brown hair.

"He's not Mandalorian himself, but he raised a fine female - a good wife, a good mother, a good Mando'ad. We Mandos don't often get the chance to say goodbye to our families when they pass on, so I think it's only right I make the trip," he sensed that a further explanation was in order, so he appeased both Tay and Cody's curiosities. "I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to my Mar'ta," a flash of pain twisted his deeply lined face. "So, I'd like to say goodbye to Mal."

"I didn't know you still had family on Mar'ta's side," Tay murmured, her expression still one of considerable surprise.

"I don't talk about them much," Saa shrugged. "It still hurts to talk of her, at times."

The merc's sigh was heavy and Cody glanced at Tay out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, her pain and confusion seemed more understandable. He thought of the only comparison he had - his brothers - and he thought of Waxer.

No, a year wasn't enough time to heal some wounds.

_Sometimes, there's never enough time_, he mused and turned back toward Saa.

"But, Mal was always decent to me. He didn't disown Mar'ta, either, when she went Mandalorian and chose her own family. That's rare - most of those who become Mando as adults, are cut off from their _aruetii_ families," Saa scratched behind his ear and gazed into the fire; he seemed momentarily lost in memories of his own. "He tried to be a good_ ba'buir_, too - a good grandfather," he remembered to translate for Cody, but his tone was distant, distracted. "The Shistavanen are not dislike the Togorians _or_ us Mandalorians, in that family means a lot to them."

"Marta was a Shistavanen?" this seemed to be quite the revelation to Tay.

Her eyebrows rose high above her headband. Cody quirked one of his own up and looked at Saa in a bit of a different light.

He remembered Gree talking about the Shistavanen, which was the only reason he recognized the name. They were often called "wolfmen" by the rest of the galaxy and it wasn't common to find them wandering about outside of their home worlds in the Uvena system. They were a sentient canine species and despite their rarity, had gained a reputation as fierce fighters, talented trackers, and formidable mercenaries.

Saa just threw back his head and laughed at Tay and Cody's surprise.

"When I said I was married to a bitch, I meant it..._literally_," his green eyes danced mischievously for a moment, before his smile turned a little sad. "She was a good wife, from a good family - loyal and proud."

There was a moment's pause, before Tay tentatively brought the topic of conversation around again, to the beginning.

"So...you'll be going to Tatooine, then? And taking Cody?" her face turned briefly towards him and then back at Saa.

Her puzzlement was clear and Cody was a little surprised himself. Saa's intentions of leaving Anobis were shocking in and of itself - understandable, but shocking. The fact that he wanted to take Cody along, pushed shocking over the edge into totally unexpected.

"Just for a few days," Saa's tone was reassuring. "We don't expect Mal to linger long. And Cody should come," his words left little doubt that he would be persuaded otherwise. "If I'm supposed to be teaching him how to be a Mandalorian, then I shouldn't leave him alone to his own devices, even for a few days.

"I did the same for my sons, when it was time for them to learn their heritage, and _Buir_ did the same with me. The only difference is that my sons were seven when I started with them and I was eight when _Yln'buir _started with me. Where the father goes, the son goes as well - or, in this case, the teacher and the student. It's not so different from you Jedi and your padawans."

"Well, when you put it like that, no," Tay seemed...disappointed?...but she didn't argue.

She fiddled with the holobook again, but didn't turn it on. Cody just sat silent, still a little stunned. He was quickly learning, though, that life with a Mandalorian never stayed dull for long.

Life could change in the blink of an eye. It was a far cry from the monotony and regimen of the army, where the only excitement happened in battle.

"How are you going to get there?" Tay frowned a bit, lifted her head, and turned her face towards Saa.

"Hella's letting me borrow her freighter and astromech. She'll be staying here, with you - after what happened back in the capitol," Saa tapped his wounded leg unconsciously. "I'm not leaving you by yourself. She'll be here around midnight; _Cod'ika_ and I will leave first thing in the morning."

"Hella will lose her mind," Tay pursed her lips - Cody couldn't tell if it was because she disapproved, or because the idea of Hella trying to be domestic was as funny to her as it was to him. "I doubt the farming life is her cup of tea."

"It'll be good for her. Whether or not she chooses to see that, is up to the gods," Saa snorted a bit and a smile tugged the corners of his mouth. "But, she offered to stay and I can't disagree with the idea. I couldn't trust you to a faster hand or a better aim. And, to be honest, the two of you need to spend some time together. You both got off on the wrong foot with one another, though it's always been beyond me as to why."

"It probably has something to do with the fact that you won't tell her anything about me," Tay chided mildly.

"Hmm..." Saa had picked up his knife and was patiently carving again. "Probably. Guess I have only myself to blame for that. I raised her to be suspicious. It's a healthy trait in a mercenary."

There was a pregnant pause.

"So...what should I tell her, while you're gone?" Tay prodded; her eyebrows were still arched above her headband. "I won't lie, if she asks questions."

"Then don't," Saa made it sound as if the answer was obvious. "Just tell her to trust her old _buir_ a little bit longer," he glanced over at Cody, his green eyes thoughtful. "I'll tell her myself, when the time comes."

"She'll be angry with you."

"I'll deal with that, too, when the time comes," Saa just shrugged.

There was another long pause; Cody and Saa bent over their own chess pieces and Tay sat back on the couch, tapping the side of her holobook with well-trimmed nails. She seemed to be thinking something over, but Saa spoke before she could share what was on her mind.

"By the way...Hella's asked me to pick up a contract in Tatooine, to compensate for taking time out of hers," the old merc carved with slow, meticulous strokes of the blade; his eyes didn't wander from the wooden piece in his hands. "I told her that Dar'manda and I would. Business is easy in Mos Eisley."

The silence turned awkward again. Cody looked up in surprise - first at Saa and then at Tay. Saa kept his head down, but Tay had a strange expression on her face. If Cody hadn't known any better, he would have called it fear.

The look slipped away as soon as he caught sight of it, but the memory of it stayed with him. And, Cody didn't have to be told, to know what it meant.

She was being forced to sit by – yet again – and let her men travel out into danger and into the wilder galaxy beyond, while she stayed behind and worried.

To her credit, her measured voice gave nothing away. Only her face had shown her fear, in the brief second that Cody had happened to catch it.

"Cody's on the Wanted Lists, you know. So are you."

"If there's one thing a Mando knows how to do, it's how to fake an identity. And no one asks questions, when a Mandalorian chooses to keep his helmet on," Saa replied patiently.

"It's dangerous," was all she said in response.

"A merc's job always is," Saa agreed, his tone surprisingly gentle. "But, I can't say 'no' to family and I didn't want to say 'no' to Hella's request. We need the money and Dar'manda needs to learn his trade. We might as well start somewhere."

"Have you ever even _asked_ Cody, if he wants to be a Mandalorian?" for the first time, Tay showed a bit of impatience.

Cody looked at her again and wasn't sure if he was surprised by the tone of her voice or by her unusual display of protectiveness.

"Hey," Saa just lifted his head, completely deadpan, and looked Cody straight in the eye. "Do you want to be a Mandalorian?"

Cody was quiet for a moment, as he considered his options. He hadn't really thought about it...truth be told, he'd been following Saa's lead. It's what he'd been bred for, after all - to follow the ideas of others, without too much thought given to his own choices.

But, as she always had, Tay forced him to question himself and to recognize the choices he had over his life. The clone was silent for a long time and the other two let him sit in quiet contemplation, neither one hurrying him for an answer.

"I'm a soldier," he finally replied, his words slow and careful. "And from what I can gather, Mandalorians are soldiers, too."

Cody glanced up at Saa, as if seeking confirmation of his conclusion. Saa nodded, his expression sober.

"Before, I was a soldier without a choice. If I'm a Mandalorian, then I'm a soldier by hiring of my own choosing, I figure. I can't help what I am and I can't deny it. So, if I'm a soldier, bred from a soldier, then I guess that's what I'll be."

He shrugged, downplaying the significance of his words. But, a rough sort of smile had crossed Saa's face and even Tay seemed suitably satisfied by Cody's answer.

"And," he added, remembering something else he'd wanted to say. "I'd rather be a mercenary, than the Emperor's pawn. I'd rather risk a galaxy of danger," his voice dropped an octave or two, as he put all of his heart and soul behind his next words. "Than continue watching while evil triumphs."

And in that moment, something slowly began to change for Cody – something deep inside of his soul, in the very core of his being. In that deep and silent center, where nothing could ever be cloned.

Something of who he'd once been, began to end.

And something else – something new – waited patiently for a fresh beginning.


	13. Waiting For the End2

**Dedication: **_This chapter is dedicated to **RedFredDeadDude**, who got me thinking about Saa and his character. This wasn't supposed to be a Saa-centric chapter, but it just sorta' happened that way, after I sat down and thought how to make the differences between **Saa Par'jain** and **Kal Skirata** more apparent. Thanks for letting me ramble, Red! This chapter is also dedicated to **LongLiveTheClones**, who made me think about the over-all significance of "A Thousand Suns". I'm proud to say, I now have an applicable tie-in from story title to story plot. Thanks to both of you for asking questions, pointing things out, and inspiring me!_

**Cannon Reference:** _Just so there's no confusion, **Kal** and **Tar Lup** are cannon characters that - so far as I know - don't have a lot of background, but are mentioned somewhere in one of the countless novelizations of the Star Wars universe. I decided to borrow their characters for a bit. :)_

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_"Waiting for the end to come / Wishing I had strength to stand / This is not what I had planned / It's out of my control.  
Flying at the speed of light / Thoughts were spinning in my head / So many things were left unsaid / It's hard to let you go."  
_

**Linkin Park  
"Waiting For the End"**

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Cody wasn't good with "goodbyes", mostly because he'd never had to master the skill. Soldiers didn't think about "goodbye" - they couldn't. Your brother was either with you after battle, or he wasn't. There wasn't time to think of suitable, lingering farewells - one either lived or died, and the rest of the collective had to learn to deal with whatever fate decided.

So, it was with some amount of awkwardness, that he stood in the small foyer by the front door, and looked down at Tay's shyly upturned face.

"Be careful," she murmured softly, as if not trusting herself to speak any louder.

"I'll do my best," he tried to smile, knowing that she couldn't see, but hoping that maybe she could sense it through the Force.

She merely bit the edge of her lip and lifted her hand. For a moment, he thought she might touch his face, but instead, her fingers fluttered uncertainly against his borrowed, open-throat tunic. In a sudden, unexpected surge of affection, Cody reached up with his own hand and pressed her palm against the center of his chest. They stood there, for a moment; her hand felt small and fragile underneath his roughened fingers, and something unspoken passed between them.

She'd be there when he got back. And maybe, then, the words would come a little easier.

Cody patted her hand once, twice, in an awkward, but earnest manner. She continued to bite her lip and he wanted to kiss her.

But, it wasn't the time, or the place. So, he just gently took her hand in his, squeezed it tightly for a second or so, and then broke the contact between them.

There was a lot he wanted to say - a litany of useless reassurances. But, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he lowered his head as she turned almost reluctantly away. Cody couldn't help a quick flash of jealousy, when she wrapped her arms around Saa's neck and hugged him tight. He felt a stab of hurt, too, when she kissed the weathered merc on the cheek and Saa hugged her back.

Was it wrong of him to want to kiss her, too? Properly, with all of the heat and passion and longing that was building slowly up inside? Was it wrong for him to want a hug from her as well? To feel the curves of her body one last time, before he faced the greater unknown?

Cody turned his head and opened the door, feigning interest in what lay outside. There was just dirty snow and a glowering sky, but the rush of winter air seemed to touch and cool his raw emotions. He shifted restlessly and readjusted the heavy kit slung across his back. In his impatience, he almost missed the words that Saa whispered into Tay's soft hair, as he kissed her on the crown of her head. But, Cody turned his head just in time to catch the words as they softly passed Saa's lips.

"Write to him."

Cody hid a frown, as he turned away again. This was a glimpse of Saa's complexity that made him oddly uncomfortable and he wasn't exactly certain as to why. Maybe it was because he'd never seen true affection or love expressed - the closest he'd ever seen was between General Kenobi and Commander Tano and that was distinctly formal. Even the interactions between Rex and the young Togruta commander had been subtle - hidden because of who they were and who might see. Except for the purely sexual expressions between him and Jaria, he'd never witnessed tenderness.

It made him yearn for what he'd never had.

"_Ad'ika_," Saa's voice - louder, this time - made Cody glance over his shoulder.

"_Buir_," Hella expression was a bit odd, but there, too, affection showed itself unbridled.

Nothing else was said between the Mandalorian father and his Togorian daughter, except their familial titles, as if that was all that was needed to convey the weight of their emotions. The two crushed each other in a rather fierce hug; Saa was shorter than Hella and it was oddly touching to see the Togorian rub the side of her face on the top of Saa's balding head. The tough old merc kissed her loudly on her whiskers, as he pulled away, and Cody marveled yet again at the strange complexity of the Mando'ad.

There was no doubt in his mind - not when it came to Saa, anyway. The man was fierce, because he loved whole-heartedly and held nothing back. There was no awkwardness, no worry that his obvious affection was "un-manly". He gave it freely, without a thought about how it would be received, or even how it would be _perceived_.

Cody knew, instinctively, that this was the key to the Mando fighter.

He loved fiercely, and so, he fought fiercely.

Cody glanced at Tay; she was standing to the side, against the opposite side of the foyer wall, her hands clasped demurely in front of her. Her face was angled slightly toward him and she had a tight, closed expression on her face. Her small, full lips, were pressed together tightly, as if she was holding back something that she so desperately wanted to say.

And, oh - how he wanted to kiss her!

"Let's go, Dar'manda," Saa broke the moment, as he turned away from Hella and slapped Cody roughly on the arm.

The merc cleared his throat and Cody caught him running a rough sleeve over too-bright eyes, before he picked up his own kit and slung it over his shoulder.

"What possessed you to open the door?" Saa griped, but most of the bite was absent from his tone. "You're freezing my _shebs _off!"

"Shebs?" Cody hesitated, thankful for the distraction.

"My backside," Saa shoved him good-naturedly between the shoulder-blades and pushed him over the threshold, into the snowy world beyond.

The sun was just beginning to rise, but the clouds covered most of it, so the fields around them were painted in shades of paling gray and black. Cody shivered a bit, as a small gust of wind blew loose snow into his face and pierced through his light-weight clothing.

He'd have thrown on a jacket, but it seemed superfluous, considering their destination. Hella's freighter had made a temporary landing pad for itself in one of the nearby fields, which Tay had planned to let fallow during the upcoming spring. The time between the house and the freighter was bound to chill Cody to the quick, but he figured it'd be over quickly, if they double-timed.

Saa seemed to think the same thing, as he'd left his jacket behind as well.

"Move like you've got some purpose," the older man surprised Cody, by breaking into a long-legged lope toward the freighter.

Cody paused only long enough to glance over his shoulder. Tay stood framed in the doorway, Hella squeezed against the door frame to her left. Neither female said a word - though Hella's tail curled back and forth, slowly. The Togorian's expression was a study in blank, but her tail spoke for her - she was worried. As worried as Tay, who showed it openly, her arms crossed over her chest, as if to defend her against the cold and her fear.

No one said "goodbye" and a part of Cody was thankful for it. Without another word, he turned, adjusted his kit, and ran after Saa.

* * *

"Aren't you worried about the Empire?" Cody felt he knew the answer, anyway, but the two men had been quiet for some time, so he was itching to break up the silence.

He moved cautiously around Hella's chirping astromech - A2-R4. Memories of General Skywalker's battered - and oddly personable - blue-and-white astromech, R2-D2 drifted close to the surface of his conscious. Cody absently patted A2-R4's gold painted top, as he maneuvered around the little droid to settle in the empty co-pilot's seat on Saa's left.

He didn't care for droids, but anyone who'd ever made contact with R2-D2, came away with a different appreciation for "tinnies." Cody wouldn't call it affection, exactly, but it wasn't hostility, either. All the same, he was glad when A2-R4 whirred to itself and then rolled off out of the cockpit, to some task or another.

Astromechs reminded him of General Skywalker. And those were still painful memories, of a past he could never recapture.

"_Ad'ika_," Saa was going over his navigation coordinates and had missed the brief interaction between Cody and A2-R4. "If every Mando worried about who was out to get him," the wizened merc scratched behind his ear. "We'd all be pacifists."

"Fair 'nough," Cody shrugged and turned his gaze out toward the streaks of hyperspace that indicated the thousands of stars that passed them by at countless parsecs per minute.

"Though, I will admit, I'm not exactly sure why I'm on the Wanted Lists," Saa lifted a datapad that had been sitting on the arm of his chair, and squinted nearsightedly at the faintly glowing screen. "I fought for the _di'kut_ Republic."

"Yeah...but you were a prisoner when it all went down," Cody pointed out; he leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the console. "I'd imagine in the fallout, no one bothered to sort your story out."

"Probably not," Saa snorted, without looking up from his 'pad. "Bureaucracy is always rather worthless that way. Though," he paused and glanced up, his eyes distant and suddenly troubled. "I _had_ tracked down some interesting leads that, on second thought, might not have put me in favor with the current government."

"Whatcha' mean?" Cody folded his arms behind his head and arched an eyebrow.

_This_ was a part of the war he'd never heard about, before. "Spooks" didn't interact with ordinary troopers, and Cody had always been too focused on his men and on the next mission, to worry about the politics behind the dead and the fighting.

"Nothing that I feel comfortable claiming as definitive," Saa shrugged and shook his head, his eyes refocusing as he glanced back down at his datapad. "But, I was starting to uncover some information that suggested that Senator Palpatine - who is now, so conveniently, _Emperor_ Palpatine - orchestrated the whole affair."

"Wait a minute," Cody scowled, his mind taking what Saa _wasn't_ saying, and running with it.

All of the clones had known that they had been bred for war - there really wasn't any way around the fact. It was one of the many harsh realities they'd had to learn to deal with. They were dead men, in more than just the Mandalorian sense; they'd been created to fight in someone else's wars.

But, no one had ever asked "why?" No one had ever thought to question. No one had ever stopped to look deeper into the murky origins of the Kamino clone project - no one Cody knew, anyway. No Jedi, no senators. There had been times, in the frustrated aftermath of battle, that Cody had struggled with the fleeting feelings of being caught in some machination bigger than himself - bigger than all of them.

He was a sharply intelligent man - they _all_ were, every last clone. But, they'd been programmed to apply their intellect to the business of war, not politics. It wasn't their's to question "why" - it was their's to do, or die. And, so, Cody'd never followed up on his vague feelings of unease.

Until, now.

_If Senator Palpatine orchestrated the war, then that means..._

"We were made on purpose. With calculation and intent," disgust rose from the deepest part of Cody's soul and tinged his words in a bitterness that he could almost taste. "We were just..._droids_!"

"Effectively, yes," Saa's own tone was angry and hard. "Yet another reason I think Jango Fett was a dishonorable _di'kut_. He had to have known_ something_..._suspected _something. And he could have stopped it. He could have stopped the whole kriffin' thing, but he let money set his morales, to the tune of several million lives. Several million _Mandalorian_ lives.

"A lot of Mando blame the Jedi for the wars," Saa shook his head; his eyes were bright and fierce, his tone even more so.

Cody remembered the last time he'd seen such an intense look on Saa's face. He'd been laying in Tay's guest bed, Saa's hand crushing against his throat, while the mercenary threatened to kill him if he didn't get clean. As he had then, so Cody understood now, just how formidable Saa was - one did _not _want the privilege of being the mercenary's enemy.

"But, I watched the Jedi closely during the three years of the war. Many of them were honorable. Many of them died trying to do what they truly believed was right. I heard of one general - Ima Gun Di, I think was his name - who died leading the resistance on Ryloth. His final stand was with the words, 'for the Twi'leks'! 'For the Republic!' His clone commander died fighting with him - I saw and heard countless stories like that, throughout the war.

"No, the Jedi weren't the problem. And I have little love for the _Jetiise_ - Tay'ika not withstanding. Most Mandalorians are the same. We have long memories and we remember the massacre on Galidraan," Saa stared off into space, his memories his own.

Cody just sat next to him and listened. He watched Saa intently, sifting through everything that was said and everything that wasn't.

Saa was a masterful story-teller and Cody soaked in the lesson.

"But, I won't lay blame at the feet of those who don't deserve it. I saw things during the war that lead me to believe the_ Jetiise _were pawns, used for a crueler purpose as certainly as you and your brothers were," Saa crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his own chair. "I don't even blame Dooku or the Neimoidans. I blame Fett," Saa spat out the name like it was a Huttese curse word. "I won't believe he knew 'nothing', as he claimed. And the stench of corruption traveled past him, to Palpatine."

Saa shifted, suddenly uncertain, and he was clearly agitated by it.

"I just wish I'd had enough time. I was on a lead - helped along by some of Skirata's boys, incidentally, though I like to flatter myself and think that they didn't know I was snooping along on their conclusions. But, the chrono ran out, in the end," Saa scowled fiercely at nothing. "It was all too perfect. Too pat. Order 66 was just to kriffin' _convenient_."

Cody lowered his arms and crossed them in mimic of Saa, suddenly uncomfortable with the change in topic. The image of General Kenobi, falling into black oblivion, flashed across his mind, and he joined Saa in staring out the cockpit window, into a past he wished he could rewrite.

"I don't blame you, either, _ad'ika_," Saa's voice was softer and the sound of it dragged Cody back to the present.

He looked over at Saa, not caring if his remorse and shame showed plainly on his face.

"But, let Fett's folly be a lessen to you," Saa slipped effortlessly into his role of teacher and comforter. "By _aruetii_ standards, I'm oddly honorable for a Mandalorian. But, that would be Yln'_buir_'s influence, as a Togorian, and I have never regretted it. Don't ever let greed, or money, or selfish pursuits fuel your trade - let honor be as true to you as your _beskar'gam_, your armor."

Saa looked away, as if to hide the raw earnestness that had overcome him. He stared into nothing and Cody suspected that he was remembering the last time he had imparted such wisdom, to his sons or to his daughter.

And something of a prophecy seemed to echo out through Saa's solemn words.

"We Mandos have thought for ourselves for far too long. And in the end, it was used against us, to destroy whole worlds. It's time we started holding honor dearer to us than credits or creed. We've torn this galaxy apart, and we owe it to a whole generation of slaughtered sons and brothers, to do our part to set it right."

* * *

"Who's Skirata?" Cody asked as he sifted through the collection of armor that had been pulled out onto the freighter's generously-sized cargo deck.

His mind - designed to pick out and store even the most random minutiae, had been turning over the name for several hours. It seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it - he suspected it was an old memory from Kamino, since most of those memories were vague at best.

No one wanted to remember Kamino; most troopers did their best to bury that particular past. Cody wasn't any exception.

"A Mandalorian mercenary - rather top notch," Saa handed him a pair of red greaves to try on. "He was one of Fett's _Cuy'val Dar_. Trained commandos and the Null ARCs."

"The Null ARCs?" Cody nearly dropped the greaves in his surprise.

He sputtered a for moment and Saa paused, raised an eyebrow, and gave Cody a peculiar sort of look.

"They were real?" Cody tried to explain, but the best he could get out, at first, were three incredulous words.

He gestured excitedly, his eyes wide.

"We troopers heard rumors about them. Stuff of legends, the Nulls. But," Cody stopped a minute and had the good graces to look a bit embarrassed. "I thought they were just soldiers' stories. Y'know...our own kind of myths."

"Well...the Nulls are definitely legendary, I'll give 'em that," Saa rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled a bit. "But, they weren't myth. They were all Kal Skirata's boys - every last one. He saved them from death, when they were just small. Story goes, that the Kaminoans were going to cull all six of 'em, because they were too 'dangerous.'

"Of course, from the Kaminoan point of view, they were failed experiments," Saa's facial expression left very little doubt about how he felt about_ that._ "But, they were right about the Nulls being 'dangerous.' Finest damn spooks I ever had the pleasure of meeting - and trust me, I'm still thankful I survived every encounter."

Cody just rocked back on his heels, a bit awed by the tall, wiry, ginger-haired merc sitting cross-legged on the deck in front of him. Slowly, the former troop commander shook his head and a bit of a smile tugged the edges of his lips.

"You certainly got around during the War, didn't you?"

"Guess you could say that," Saa shrugged nonchalantly, his casualness belying the significance of his experiences. "I never met all of 'em - I had a good working relationship with Mereel, though. He's one of the very few who knew the truth of the game I played. And I knew Ordo - at least, via comlink and communiques. Never got to meet him in person, though."

"And Skirata was their trainer?"

"Naw. Skirata was their _father_," Saa answered, his tone almost wistful.

He turned over a gray kneecap in his hands, before leaning forward and handing it to Cody.

"He did a good job with them. I knew Skirata, before he disappeared into Kamino - we had some_ slight_ ideological differences, even back then," the wry note to Saa's voice told Cody that these differences weren't at all "slight", but he didn't comment. "And for a while, I lost respect for him, when I found out about the _Cuy'val Dar_. I used to think that he was no better than Fett. But, then I met Mereel and realized that for all of our differences, Skirata and I were just different sides of the same coin. He poured his heart and soul into his men, and made damn sure they had souls of their own."

Saa leaned back and fished about in his pockets for a minute, before pulling out a wad of ruik root from a tin and pushing it into his cheek.

"Can't fault the man for that," there was a far-away look to Saa's eyes as he sifted through the armor arrayed between him and Cody. "In any case, I've found the Wanted Lists highly informative in regards to Skirata and his Null boys. Take a look sometime - they're all deserters."

Saa had found the match to the first kneecap and he tossed it gently into Cody's growing pile of plates.

"You're not the only one, _ad'ika_," the older man groaned a bit as he struggled to his feet; Cody watched as the merc favored his wounded leg and he felt a pang of responsibility.

"I didn't exactly desert for altruistic reasons," Cody said softly, as he considered the kneecaps and the greaves.

"Desertion in and of itself, isn't exactly an honorable act, so I wouldn't get bogged down in your reasons," Saa - ever the pragmatist - leaned back with his hands on his hips and popped his back. "Ya' can only change the future," he straightened up and nudged the plates stacked to Cody's left. "Let's see if we can start that today."

Cody nodded, his thoughts distant for a minute or two. Bellassa still haunted him in his dreams, as did his addictions. He hadn't craved alcohol in a while, but the shot of amber liquor he'd taken the night of Jornada Del Muerto, had stirred old hungers that made themselves known in the quiet of the night. Stims, he craved, too, though whenever he felt an itch to go searching, he simply reached for the nearest cup of caf.

The past was a hard thing to escape, but he was making progress, if slowly. Alcohol was slowly being replaced by a longing for the taste of it on Tay's lips; stims were slowly being replaced by caf. The sins of his past, though - of dead Jedi, and of General Kenobi, and of Bellassa - those were harder to outrun.

He stared at the piece-meal bits of Mandalorian armor scattered about the deck. An array of colors - gray, and red, and black, and gold - almost felt like the bits of his broken past. He looked at the plates stacked next to him - the pieces Saa and him had hoped would fit him best, until he could make his own_ beskar'gam_. And somehow, that small pile of mis-matched colors seemed a fitting representation of all the broken parts of himself that he was trying to fashion into something new.

"Where did you get all of this armor, anyway?" Cody broke the silence, as he picked up a vambrace and started strapping it into place across his right forearm.

"Get used to being a scavenger, if you're going to be Mando'ad," Saa flashed him a roguish grin. "You take down an enemy - take his armor. Quickest way to build a cache," he waved a hand at all of the breastplates, greaves, kneecaps, and vambraces that littered the deck. "You never know when it's gonna' come in handy."

He rocked back on his heels and watched thoughtfully, as Cody carefully assembled the mismatched armor onto his body.

"My own _beskar'gam_ is a collection of memories - pieces from my sons, mostly, that I've painted over to match. My helmet was my father's," Saa sighed; the sound was bittersweet. "I even took my breastplate from an ARC trooper who died in my arms."

Cody glanced up from strapping on his own breastplate, surprised.

"I have very little of my original kit left - most of it, I've contributed to the cache here," Saa nodded toward the armor. "That's when a Mando father knows that he's lived a long and full life, full of sons and daughters. The idea is, that by the time you're ready to pass on your _beskar'gam_ - which rarely happens, by the way. Our way of life isn't exactly conducive to old age, but it's something that we all hope for - that very little of that _beskar'gam_ is your own. It should be an amalgamation of a well-lived life, a collection from loved ones left and enemies conquered."

"Oh," Cody didn't quiet know what to say to that, if anything at all.

Silence fell between the two men, as Cody finished putting together random bits and pieces to make a passing facsimile of Mandalorian Shock Trooper armor. It was lighter than his trooper armor and not as full-coverage; the style of armor that Saa favored focused on protecting the major arteries in the torso, legs and groin, but left the arms - in particular - uncovered. It was a calculated risk, in favor of mobility and speed.

Cody stood for a moment, after strapping on the last piece of armor - his left greave - and he looked down at himself. It felt...weird. Foreign. At first, when Saa had announced his intention to put him in armor for the duration of their expedition on Tatooine, Cody had been excited.

Now, he wasn't so sure. He'd been subconsciously expecting something more like _his _armor, but this was distinctly different. The blast proof, duraplast plates lacked the comfortable heaviness he'd spent his whole life fighting under and he felt awkward in the modified, dark-green flight suit he wore underneath. He felt, in parts, exposed, and in others, bulky. He glanced at Saa, his expression bemused.

"The helmet will probably help settle you out," Saa seemed to sense what Cody was thinking. "It looks good on you, though," he stepped forward and thumped his knuckles against the young clone's breastplate. "You finally look like a Mando."

Cody offered a hesitant smile - Saa was free with his praise, but it felt oddly well-earned. He watched, silently, as the older man limped over to one of the boxes that Hella had secured to the cargo bulkhead. A few seconds later, he turned back around, cradling a red-and-gray helmet in his arms.

"My father's," was all Saa said, as he limped back and handed it to Cody.

For several seconds, Cody froze. Finally, he found his voice and sputtered -

"I can't take that!"

"Sure you can," Saa shoved it against his chest and jutted out his jaw stubbornly. "It's the only _buy'ce_ - helmet - that I have. We can't dock until you've hid your face and this'll have to do. Consider it a loan for the time being."

Cody finally reached up with numb fingers and took it from Saa's grasp. He stared at it, its classic Mandalorian lines vaguely familiar. Slowly, he bent his head and slipped the helmet on - it smelled of another man, but it also smelled slightly unused. It'd been some time since Saa had last worn it.

The clone trooper couldn't help a sigh of relief - Saa was right. Having a helmet on helped the awkwardness of the rest of the armor. It weighed heavy and familiar on his neck and his muscles remembered the way to move underneath it. His neck and shoulders would hurt in just a few hours, having grown unused to the weight of a helmet.

But, it was a good feeling - one that he hadn't realized he'd missed.

"Shouldn't be too hard for you to get used to," Saa's voice was slightly muffled, as he reached up and tapped Cody's armored faceplate. "Got a Heads Up Display installed in it, too - compliments of Del. Same as yours would have been, 'cept maybe with a few ARC upgrades. Del liked his specialties."

Cody was silent as he blinked his eyes, firing the HUD into action. For a second, the world around him disoriented, as information flooded his senses. He stood still for several long seconds, as he familiarized himself with the helmet and sorted through what he needed and didn't need, as far as the display was concerned.

Saa was right, though. It was almost identical to his own helmet, from the wars, with a few minor modifications.

"If you're not wearing armor, what are you going to do?" Cody finally asked, after he was comfortable moving and talking again.

"Oh, you'll see," Saa's green eyes suddenly danced mischievously.

The tilt of Cody's head must have conveyed his sense of disbelief, because Saa laughed and waved a dismissing hand.

"I've always had a talent for disguises. It's why Fett wanted me for the _Cuy'val Dar_ and one of the many reasons I managed to live as long as I did as a spy. I'll tell you this, though," Saa grinned, his smile almost feral. "Even stormtroopers will know better than to get in the way of Mandalorian bounty hunter and his Miraluka associate."

* * *

Cody hadn't believed Saa when he'd said it, but he quickly decided that the old merc did, in fact, make a very convincing Miraluka.

They had both just finished cleaning up the scattered armor in the cargo bay, when A2-R4 came beeping and whirring up to Saa. With only an hour left before they would reach Tatooine's orbit, the wily merc winked at Cody and sent him up to the cockpit.

"You know how to fly, right?"

"I was 7th Sky Corps," Cody replied dryly. "Think about it."

"Okay, stupid question," Saa just laughed; he was oddly good-natured, considering their approaching descent into a strongly Empire-held planet. "Go take this old bucket of bolts off of auto-pilot and steer us in. I'll be a few minutes."

About thirty minutes later, Saa wandered into the cockpit, sat casually down in the co-pilot's seat, and smirked while Cody did a double-take.

The older Mando had shaved his head and had trimmed his days' old beard into a goatee. His bald pate gleamed under the overhead lights, as if he'd oiled it, and he'd dyed what was left of his facial hair. He looked years younger, with his fiery-red goatee and lop-sided grin.

The most startling change, though, was a thick band of some sort of black, polished metal, that hid Saa's eyes. It reached around his whole head in one smooth band, not too dissimilar in fashion to Tay's headband. It was a little thicker, though, and Cody realized why when Saa reached up and tapped it between his eyes.

"One-way," he grinned, clearly pleased with his ingenuity. "I can see out, but to anyone in your position, it looks opaque. Quite handy, too, in Tatooine's climate - cuts out the bloody glare."

Cody just nodded and was thankful that the helmet hid his slack-jawed amazement. It was, however, difficult not to point out the humor of it all.

"Does Tay know that you've learned how to imitate her?"

"Not in the slightest," Saa replied cheerfully. "Let's keep it that way, shall we?"

"What goes down on mission, stays on mission," Cody shrugged and Saa laughed.

"Good man."

There was a slight pause, before Cody asked -

"Won't people know that you're not Force sensitive?"

"Not necessarily. The likelihood of running across anyone who's Force sensitive in Mos Eisley - especially now that the Empire has a stranglehold on the city - is slim. And the Force is such an inseparable part of the Miraluka way of life, that they don't feel the need to flaunt it. I'm sure you've watched Tay," Saa folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. "It's such a part of who she is, that it doesn't really set her apart."

Cody thought he understood what Saa meant by that, so he just nodded. At any rate, he trusted the older merc to know what he was doing. Clearly, he'd done this before and had used his Miraluka disguise with success.

"How much longer do we have?"

"Fifteen to orbit - about twenty to docking," Cody glanced at the console to his left. "We should be getting hailed by air control in about ten. I'll be taking us out of hyperspace in five."

"Good," Saa grunted; he reached over and thumped Cody on the shoulder. "From here on out, until we're back on Anobis, I'm Fallon Marr and you're -" Saa stopped and pursed his lips for a moment. "Jaos Kel. Last names'll work nicely, I think. So," he pointed first to himself and then to Cody. "Marr and Kel. And, oh," Saa's grin made Cody suddenly wary. "_You're_ the boss."

* * *

Arms crossed over his chest and silent behind his borrowed helmet, Cody watched as Saa dealt smoothly with the squad of stormtroopers gathered on the docking bays. He'd tried to get out of being in charge - even if it was just an act, for the most part - but Saa wouldn't hear any of it.

"You've been in command. Get used to it. Best way to learn, is to to just jump into the thick of it, take charge, and learn on your feet."

Cody had to wonder if that was how Yln had taught Saa and how Saa had taught his sons. It was a daunting - and uncomfortable - role reversal. And yet, somehow, still familiar.

The bonus to being in charge, was that he didn't have to talk much. Saa, as the play-acting second-in-command, dealt with the lesser mortals. Cody - who had learned long ago that quite a satisfactory level of intimidation could be achieved with a helmet and silence - just stood in the background and looked threatening.

It wasn't hard, especially since Saa had decided to add a pauldron and kama to Cody's kit at the last minute.

"Your posture's horrible," he'd said, before dragging Cody back into the cargo bay.

A year out of armor had been just enough to alter Cody's former military stance. The muscles in his back had weakened from disuse, as well, and he'd developed an unconscious slouch from working bent over in the mines for six months. Saa had shown him how to put a pauldron on his right shoulder and how to attach the kama underneath his belt, all with the cheerful admonition that "nothing helps bad posture like a kama."

It was true. The kama forced him to push his hips out and Cody caught himself adopting the swagger he'd come to associate with Rex. The pauldon forced him to straighten his shoulders and push his chest out; this helped deepen the swagger considerably. In some ways, Cody felt a little silly and the pauldron made him feel even more bulky; during the wars, he'd had many chances to wear a pauldron, but he'd always opted out, preferring the sleeker lines of his unaltered suit.'

But, he had to admit, it was an attention-grabbing accessory and in combination with the kama, seemed to add to his general aura of menace.

He shifted a bit - things with the stormtroopers were taking longer than he would have liked. He distributed his weight more evenly into his heels and the movement shifted the kama against the back of his thighs. One of the stormtroopers looked up at him and Cody felt a pang of separation.

Those were his brothers down there. He could tell, by the way they stood and gestured. He didn't need to see beneath their helmets, to know that they all shared the same face.

It would be easy, to shoot Saa in the back and to take his place back with his brothers. He'd long ago spun a plausible story for his MIA - Cody had some degree of confidence that, if he chose to, he could slip back into the comfortable anonymity of the Empire's forces.

But, it was just an idle thought.

Cody would not betray the kindness and trust that Saa had shown him. He wouldn't dishonor the memories of the armor he now wore. He wouldn't take lightly the helmet that he'd been given - he missed his brothers, but he'd become a very different man.

He remembered the taste of Tay's lips and Cody rocked back on his heels. The stormtroopers all looked up at him and seemed to decided that their interrogation of Saa was complete. Their squad leader - a sergeant, Cody guessed - waved his hand dismissively at the disguised mercenary and handed back Saa's datapad.

Cody waited until the troopers had turned the corner out of the docking bay, before he swaggered down the freighter's ramp. His hips swayed under the kama's heavy influence.

"Let's get this over with," Cody spoke quietly into the secure line that he shared with Saa's subcutaneous comlink - yet another handy tool the former spy had managed to procure during his days of espionage.

Saa just nodded, as if he caught Cody's underlying meaning. He thumped the former trooper on the back and murmured -

"I'll be happy to get home, too. It won't be soon enough," he looked up at Cody's hidden face and grimaced, as they started walking out toward the waiting city. "I'm getting too old for this _osik_."

Cody chuckled.

"Not from where I'm standing."

They were the first familiar words he'd spoken to Saa and their impact was noticeable. The old Mando grinned like a fool and stood a little straighter. And even though it made his limp more pronounced, he lengthened his step and matched Cody's swagger with one of his own.

No one stayed in their way for long and the two walked side-by-side, as if they - and _not _the Empire - owned Mos Eisley.

* * *

The effectiveness of Saa's disguise was proved when they entered "Lup's General Store" along Outer Curved Street, one of the more main thorough fares in the Tatooine space port. Two shaggy Shistavanens - one male and one female - didn't even spare them a glance, as they worked with various other customers from behind their store counter. With a nudge from Saa, Cody pushed his way easily through the crowd - the pauldon gave his shoulders several extra inches of imposing width and his swagger was unmistakably no-nonsense.

The classically Mandalorian armor didn't hurt, either. The odd melange of customers took one look at him and parted easily.

"Wait your turn," the female Shistavanen frowned; her voice was firm and equally no-nonsense.

"We've come to see Mal'_buir_, Kal'ika."

Cody wouldn't have heard Saa's voice if he hadn't been wearing the subcutaneous comlink that was tuned to the frequency inside of Yln's helmet. At first, he wondered if the wolf-woman even heard, but both her husband's and her ears flickered forward - their hearing was at least equal to Hella's.

The clone commander-turned-Mando wouldn't have expected any less from a sentient hunting species.

The male Shistavanen looked Saa up and down with some surprise. Then, his expression cautious, he moved from behind the counter and motioned that the two of them should follow.

"I have what you ordered in the back," his voice was rough and deep.

For a second, Cody wondered about the storekeeper's words, but then he noticed some of the curious glances that had followed him and Saa as they moved to follow the Shistavanen toward a small door in the far back of the store. Cody moved his hand in silent warning toward the blaster on his hip and every last eye found something else to interest them.

"Before I take you anywhere," the wolf-man stopped up in front of the door, his voice low and his paw resting flat on the rough wooden door frame. "What's the last thing you said to Papa?" his dark eyes searched Saa's altered face with a feral intensity.

"_Aliit ori'shya tal'din," _Saa said almost immediately.

"And what does that mean?" the question was fierce, as if daring Saa to double-cross him.

"Family is more than bloodline."

"And why did you say that?"

"Because, Tar'ika, Mal'_buir_ was worried that I wouldn't accept his feelings for my Togorian children, because he was a Shistavanen _aruetii_."

Tar nodded slowly and his demeanor relaxed. He pushed open the door, and both Saa and Cody followed through. With one hasty glance back at the store and his wife, the wolf-man closed the door behind them and ran a paw over his muzzle with a hard sigh.

"Good disguise, brother," he eyed Saa ruefully. "Sorry for the questions - I had to make sure. I didn't even know it was _possible_ to pose as a Miraluka."

Saa grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dimly-lit back room.

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize the bucket," he reached up and rapped his knuckles against the side of Cody's helmet.

"I don't think I've ever seen you wear your armor," Tar looked skeptically at the silent clone to his left. "Who's this, anyway? Another son?"

"We'll go with that for now," Saa shrugged as if it was nothing, but his words did something funny to Cody.

For a second, he felt like he _belonged_. It was a feeling that he'd lost, after deserting from the Empire and he hadn't realized how much he had missed it. But, now that he'd felt it again, in a rush of warmth flooded his chest.

"Well, Papa is up stairs. Thanks for coming on such short notice," Tar lead the way further into the room and pulled back a curtain to reveal a flight of curving stairs. "He asked you to come."

"Hella didn't tell me that," Saa paused for a second and put his hand briefly on Tar's shoulder.

"I didn't tell her," Tar admitted; his furry face was earnest. "I wanted to see if you would honor what you'd said to Papa so long ago. That bloodlines didn't matter to you."

"They never have," Saa patted Tar's shoulder, before stepping past the Shistavanen and putting a foot on the first stair. "It has always been an honor to consider the Lup family as a part of my own. Mal'_buir _never had to ask - I've always hoped that I would be here," Saa hesitated and dropped his head for a moment. "For this."

"How do you know I didn't just lure you here for the bounty?" Tar wasn't quite yet done; his voice was strained, as if he was finally getting to ask a question he'd been keeping silent for a long time. "You're on the Wanted Lists."

"I know you, Tar'ika," a faint smile curled the edge of Saa's mouth as he looked over his shoulder.

The black headband was disconcerting, but he kept it in place, as if sensing that it gave him the upper hand. Cody wondered about the strange tension between the two males - it wasn't dissimilar to the tension between Tay and Hella.

"I married your sister and I know all of you. You're honorable, Tar; I've never known you to lie."

Tar just nodded and looked down at his massive paws.

"Why did you feel the need to ask?" Saa gently turned the tables.

"Because I could," Tar just shrugged and looked back up at his brother-in-law. "I sometimes wonder at how much faith you have in others."

Saa just chuckled and jerked his thumb in Cody's direction.

"If I had_ that _much faith, I'd have come alone."

* * *

Cody leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He'd caught a glimpse of an old, gray-furred, bed-ridden Shistavanen, when Saa opened the bedroom door and stepped in. But, he hadn't been invited to the bedside, so he stood guard outside the door instead and passed the time listening to the HoloNews inside the private world of his borrowed helmet.

"...The following are the names of clone soldiers who have deserted from the Imperial Army. Listeners are urged to follow procedures if the following are sighted - they are believed to be armed and dangerous.

"Clone Marshal Commander CC-2224, aka, 'Cody', last seen on Bellassa. Commander CC-101, aka, 'Fox, last seen on Coruscant, in the company of Separatist sympathizer and Zeltron singer, Vyxy Dehla'. ARC Trooper CT-27-5555, aka, 'Fives', last seen with CT-21-0408, aka, 'Echo', on Medstar 5. ARC Captain CT-3060, aka, 'Keeli', last seen on Medstar 5, in the company of escaped Jedi Kilia Tharen, the Lepi mercenary Ro-wyn Hiff, and wanted Pantoran scientist, Chiyou Ly'ang..."

Cody blinked his eye and shut down the news channel - the litany of names always gave him hope, but for the moment, he wanted something other than the sound of an Imperial-paid broadcaster chattering in his ear. He blinked a few more times and flipped through a few other channels - mostly music - as he searched for something. What, he couldn't say, but a memory tugged at the edges of his mind and he knew that there was something he wanted to hear.

He absently hummed to himself and pulled out the old-fashioned metal knife that was stashed away in the sleeve of the liner shirt he wore underneath his modified flight suit. For a few minutes, he amused himself by practicing some tricks he'd picked up along the way, during the wars - nothing fancy, just a few flashy skills he'd learned to impress.

As he hummed, the memory came back to him, of the first time he'd met Tay. She had sung to him, as he'd laid in bed, nauseous and thick-headed from too much alcohol. The memory was hard to retrieve, since it was hidden underneath a thick layer of whiskey-soaked subconsciousness, but it was there. Enough of it, anyway, for Cody to remember the tune, if not the words.

A beeping on the helmet's secured line startled Cody and he blinked a little too rapidly, opening up the channel and then accidentally closing it again. Feeling a little foolish, he steadied himself and blinked - once- and re-opened the channel to the sound of Hella's voice.

"Saa'_buir_?"

"No, Cody," the clone shifted uncomfortably, as if the Togorian was standing in front of him.

"Oh," Hella did absolutely nothing to disguise the mixture of surprise and disappointment in her voice.

Cody bit back a sigh.

"What are you doing in _Ba'buir_'s helmet?"

"Because I've been designated as the tin can for this little trip."

"Buir is not wearing his _beskar'gum_?"

"No."

"He is posing as Fallon Marr, is he?" Hella definitely disapproved.

"Are you sure you want to say that?" Cody wondered, ever-cautious.

"This is a secure line. _The_ most secure line we have," the Togorian's voice turned haughty.

"I don't think that's going to matter much to the Empire."

"The _Empire_ is full of _di'kut_," Cody could imagine Hella's tail swishing about indignantly. "My line is secure."

"Are you sure about that?"

"When did you get so brave,_ di'kut_?"

"When I got several hyperspace lines between us and a blaster on my hip."

"I hope Buir knows what he is doing."

"Looks like it from this end."

"I wasn't asking _you_, Dar'manda," Hella growled and for a moment, there was complete silence inside of Cody's helmet.

It seemed that he had surprised her - come to think of it, he'd surprised _himself_. He hadn't copped an attitude since...well...since the last time he was in armor. Cody chocked up the change of attitude to the kama and the pauldron. They made him feel cocky.

_Now I know why Rex liked 'em so much._

"Anyway, I was going to have Saa'buir relay a message to you, but I suppose, since I have you on the line, it makes my job easier. Wait one."

The next voice on the comlink was soft and achingly familiar. A rush of warmth flushed Cody's skin underneath the protection of his suit; he stood up a little straighter, too, as if Tay had physically accompanied her voice across the systems.

"Cody?"

"Tay," he nearly choked on her name and coughed to cover up his embarrassment.

"I know it's only been a couple of days, but..." he imagined her leaning in toward whatever comlink system Hella had set up on her end, biting her lip as she spoke. "I figured I would just let you know that...it's different around here without you."

_"I miss you."_ Cody didn't need to see her face, to know what she was trying to say.

"It's different without you, too."

_"I miss you."_ He couldn't bring himself to say it, either.

"Anyway, I wasn't expecting to catch you in person..." her voice trailed off, awkward.

Afraid that she'd leave, Cody tossed about for something to say. Suddenly shy, he cleared his throat.

"Um...do you remember the first time we met?"

"When you nearly threw up on my shoes?" her voice was warm and mild; he imagined her smiling, even though his own cheeks flushed at the memory.

"Yeah," he shrugged, even though there wasn't a soul around to see his body language. "Um..."

"Yes?"

"Do you remember the song you sang to me?"

"Oh," Tay seemed a bit surprised. "_Na Laetha Gael M'oige_?"

"I guess so..."

"It's a Miralukan lullaby...of sorts. Why?"

"Um..." Cody shifted, suddenly awkward.

He was thankful for the several hyperspace lanes between them and the Mandalorian helmet on his head. Inside the world of his "bucket", it was private, as secure as the thoughts in his own head. The familiarity of the helmet and the security of its privacy emboldened him, where nothing else ever could.

"Can you sing it, again? The song?"

"Oh," Tay's surprise was soft, but noticeable.

She fell silent for a long second and Cody thought that maybe he had offended her. He was just opening his mouth to tell her that it was okay, when her gentle voice whispered softly in his ear -

_""Ag amharc trí m'óige,  
Is mé 'bhí sámh,  
Gan eolas marbh  
Bhí mé óg gan am..."_

_

* * *

_

Tay was too awkward to do anything else except sing; Cody was too awkward to do anything else except listen. As a result, Tay didn't stay long on the comlink, but that was okay by Cody. It was sufficient just to hear her voice.

He hadn't realized how much he'd miss her - truth be told, he hadn't had any expectation to miss her at all. But, she'd slipped effortlessly into his life; the clone mused for a little bit about that, as the shadows lengthened in the small hallway. As impossible as his new way of life seemed, it was also becoming a part of who he was. He could still remember - with painful clarity - his life as a Republic trooper. He remembered what it had felt like to be "_Commander_" Cody - competent, respected, brilliant.

His life as a deserter, however, seemed to be fading as certainly as the twin Tatooine suns behind their horizon. It was hard to see himself back in the mines, revved up on stims, or in the seedy bars, drowning in whiskey. And, as he slowly came to terms with the fact that he'd never be "Commander Cody" ever again, he found himself settling more and more into this new way of life - as a mercenary, as a farmer, as an ordinary _man _who simply lived his life in a quiet succession of days.

And in the center of that increasingly quiet life, was an equally quiet Jedi, with a soft body, a soft voice, and soft hands. Cody leaned against the wall next to the bedroom door and watched the suns set beyond the small, round window at the far end of the hallway.

Tay had become a part of his life - and he hadn't even noticed it. Until, of course, he found himself on an Outer Rim backwater, humming the first lullaby that had ever been sung over him. For a few, sweet moments, it didn't matter if he reminded her of Del - he knew _his_ feelings for her weren't confused by previous memories. And, in the clarity and confidence of his new armor, and in his newly awakening sense of self, that was enough for him.

_He_ knew what _he_ wanted. And maybe, that was a good place to start.

He thought, for a moment, about sitting down and meditating. Something oddly instinctual told him that Tay was probably doing the same. Of course, she'd programmed him to meditate just after sunset, so it was probably conditioning that inspired the desire, not some mystic "feeling". All the same, Cody thought of her and enjoyed the brief mental image of her sitting cross-legged, surrounded by plants in the quiet conservatory, her body still and wrapped in calm.

But, he figured that if anyone came up stairs, they might find it a little...odd...if a Mandalorian mercenary was meditating in the middle of the hallway. So, Cody just shifted on his feet, pulled out his knife to fiddle with again, and made a mental note to spend some time alone in the cargo bay once they were underway.

It was just as well that he hadn't gotten too comfortable - footsteps heralded the arrival of the two Shistavanen storekeepers, Tar and Kal. Tar paused long enough to look Cody up and down, his expression wary, before he knocked gently on his father's bedroom door.

"Papa?"

A low growl answered, which was apparently equivalent to a "you may enter" in Shistavanen, since Tar and Kal opened the door and stepped inside. Cody caught a glimpse of Saa's back, as he sat in a chair next to the bed; an old-fashioned candle flickered on the bedside table to the Mando's left. That was all Cody got to see, before Kal gently closed the door and he was left in the dark.

He didn't have to wait long. The low murmur of voices, which played quietly in the backdrop of his thoughts, suddenly hushed about forty minutes later. A low, whimpering sob finally broke the silence some minutes later and Cody wasn't at all surprised to see the door open to Saa's grim face.

"He's gone?" Cody asked quietly as Saa shut the door.

"Not gone," Saa had pushed his headband up onto the top of his head, and he turned eyes that suddenly looked old and tired toward Cody. "Merely marching far away. _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_."

The two men were silent for several minutes and the only sound was the soft weeping in the room behind them. Cody guessed it was Kal whimpering gently; he felt her pain and knew it only too well.

Often, he'd been the only one left to cry for his brothers, behind the impersonal facade of his helmet, in the silence of his own solace. He couldn't help but think that "_Ba'buir_" was lucky - he had left someone behind who could weep for him openly and of whom it was expected.

His brothers hadn't ever gotten even that much dignity, in their passing.

"I told_ Ba'buir_ about you - about everything. I figured there was no harm telling the truth to an old wolf on his death bed," Saa's voice was almost softer than Kal's crying.

He seemed to sense Cody's alarm and offered the clone a brief, wry smile.

"Don't worry. Old habits die hard. He enjoyed poking fun at me while I made sure the room was clear of bugs," the smile slipped and Saa started fishing for something in the inside pocket of his nerf-leather vest. "He wanted you to have this."

He pulled out a sheathed knife and handed it to Cody. For a second, the young clone hesitated - he'd never, in his whole life, been given a gift. Especially not from a total stranger.

"Take it," Saa insisted, shoving the blunted end of the sheath into his breastplate. "There's a story behind it - an old Shistavanen legend. He told me to tell you when the time was right."

Slowly, carefully, Cody reached out and took the blade from Saa. For a moment, he just stared at it and gripped it tightly in his gloved fist. Then, with as much dignity and solemnity as he could muster, he pulled the knife free of its sheath -

And his breath caught in his throat.

It was a work of deadly art. Two-sided and completely ordinary in every aspect, except for the stunning, pure-white metal of the blade. Even in the dying twilight, it caught the faintest glimmer of light and magnified it into a flashing brilliance along the blood-groove in the middle of the blade.

"It's called sun-steel," Saa sensed Cody's question. "It's an extremely rare alloy - a heavily guarded secret kept by the Shistavanen metalworkers guild."

"It's priceless," Cody finished Saa's line of thought, as he turned the blade over in his hands, nearly speechless with awe.

"Yes," Saa reached up and touched Cody's wrist with surprisingly gentle fingers. "And a secret."

Cody took the hint and merely nodded once. He slipped the blade back into its sheath; the hallway suddenly seemed that much darker, for the absence of the sun-steel's brilliance. But, as he slipped it into his sleeve, he had to ask -

"Why me? Shouldn't it go to Tar? Or Kal?"

"Like I said," Saa shrugged and looked away as he slid his headband down over his eyes.

He didn't look back at Cody, until his eyes were just as hidden as the clone's.

"I told _Ba'buir_ about you. The old wolf was Force sensitive - probably the last one here in Mos Eisley - and he could feel you from out here," he shrugged again. "Don't ask me how - in another life, he'd probably have made a damn good Jedi. In any event, he thought you had the spirit of a Thousand Suns about you."

"'A Thousand Suns'?"

"It's an old legend - explains the origins of sun-steel. Some mythologists think it's an ancient race memory from the Old Sith Wars."

Cody waited for a minute, but Saa fell silent and leaned against the opposite side of the door frame.

"You'll tell me later?" the clone switched to their private channel, his tone wry.

"When the time is right."

Cody just sighed; the sheath felt oddly warm against his skin and he itched to pull the blade out and look at it again. He'd never seen anything like it and it boggled his mind to think that an old wolfman, who would never know him, had chosen to pass on something so priceless and rare. To _him_. A _clone_ - and a broken one at that.

"Mal was a metalworker?" he asked, just to break the silence and the sobbing.

"To his dying breath," Saa answered softly and Cody knew the time for talk had passed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his chin to stretch out the back of his neck. There was movement in the room behind them and Cody knew, almost instinctively, that Tar and Kal were preparing their dead.

And in the silence, Cody thought of Tay's soft song of death and youth, and thought it an appropriate lullaby to honor all those who were "marching far away."

"Tell my brothers 'hello' for me," Cody whispered, not caring if his private channel was still on, or that Saa could still hear him.

He thought he caught the old merc reach up and brush something away from below the edge of his headband. But, Cody pretended not to see.

Saa's voice cracked and Cody pretended not to hear.

"Tell them 'well done', _Ba'buir_. Tell them well done."

* * *

The Shistavanen buried their dead by night, on the edges of the Jundland Wastes. It was a quiet, simple affair - the wolf-people were not big on pomp or circumstance. Tar, Saa, and Cody helped break the hard ground and Kal was the one to gently lower the sheet-wrapped body into the sun-baked earth.

Nothing was said, as they stood over their dead. Kal wiped tears away from her muzzle and Tar kept his head lowered, his expression hidden in the dark of a new moon. Saa bent to one knee long enough to lay something gently inside of the grave, on top of the shroud, and to whisper a Mandalorian farewell.

"_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, Ba'buir_."

Cody was just silent, though he crossed his arms and put his hand over the strangely warm blade underneath his sleeve and vambrace. He stared for a long time at the mound of freshly turned dirt and silently wondered, while the others grieved.

* * *

"D'you mind me asking something?" Cody asked after he had felt an appropriate time had passed since they'd made their way from Mal's grave.

"Hmm?" Saa seemed distracted, but not discouraging.

"What did you put in the grave with him?"

There was silence for a moment and then a soft sigh that was nearly lost in the night-winds blowing down Spacer's Row.

"The pair of wedding rings that Mal had made for me and Mar'ta," Saa's voice was subdued, as if all of his grief had been laid to rest with his father-in-law and he had no other emotion to give. "It was all I had left of her."

Cody turned his head a bit, to look over at the slightly-taller mercenary. The gesture surprised him, but Saa simply turned his own head to meet Cody's armored gaze and he smiled a small smile.

"I've been needing to let go of her for some time now. It seemed appropriate to bury her with her_ buir_, if only symbolically."

"You never got to bury her?" Cody almost kicked himself for asking, but he was curious.

There were many, many layers to Saa and the story of his life. And even the sorrows he had lived through, fascinated Cody. They inspired him - they helped him realize that there were others who had faced darkness and had lived to triumph afterwards.

"No," Saa shook his head and looked away. "She died on Galidraan, with Mrov."

Cody remembered Hella's mention of Mrov and how he'd been killed by a lightsaber.

"The Jedi...?" he left the question only half-asked.

"Yes," Saa just nodded, grim.

Cody pondered this for a moment, as they turned to the left at an intersection and started making their way down Paradise Road. Most of the street was deserted, except for the odd squad of stormtroopers making their nightly rounds and the occasional shopkeeper hurrying from store to home. The many bars and cantinas of Mos Eisley's raucous night life were just starting to open and they walked through the lights that spilled out from whiskey-soaked doorways.

"Don't you hate the Jedi, then?" Cody thought of Slick, a brother who'd come to despise the Jedi for leading them all to their deaths.

It seemed the Jedi were to blame for countless sins. And yet, Cody had never faulted them for the price of command - he had only to look at General Kenobi, or Commander Tano, to know that duty didn't replace their compassion.

But, he was also smart enough to realize that he was in the obvious galactic minority. Hatred of the Jedi had lead to their extermination - and there seemed to be a thousand justifications for the cruel justice they had found at the end of their own soldier's blasters.

He stared down at his hands and thought he saw blood reflected there, in the light of a passing cantina. Startled, he rubbed his palms against his vambraces, the motion unconscious, unbidden.

"What would be the point in that?" Saa's voice was somber. "The Jedi are not completely to blame for Galidraan. I hated them for a while, but then I came here, to tell Mal of his daughter's and grandson's death. And he set me straight."

Saa made a strange little noise in the back of his throat. It almost sounded like "pfft" and Cody glanced at him again.

"He sounded like Yln'_buir_, which is probably why I listened to him when I wouldn't listen to anyone else. 'Pup', he said to me, 'Death comes to us all. Does it matter what tool he chooses?'."

Something loosened in Cody's conscious, as those words slowly sank into his mind. He turned them over slowly, as Saa paused to make a wide berth around a stumbling drunk, and something deep inside of Cody began to heal.

"That's when I began to see the Jedi as pawns and I started to see the galaxy for what it was - a giant chess board with pieces moved by unseen hands. My anger turned to pity, my vengeance turned to mourning. The Jedi, I realized, were do-gooders, totally devoted to their causes and blind to their consequences as a result. They weren't so different from us Mando'ad, in the end.

"No," Saa concluded, his voice soft in their privately shared comlink channel. "I don't hate the Jedi. As my Yln'_buir _would have said, 'hatred tarnishes your honor, like rust on your armor.' I've had better things to devote my passions to, than placing blame where it won't do anyone any bit of good.

"I've had daughters to love and sons to save. Not much time for personal vendettas in a father's work."

"You can't change the past?" Cody thought he was starting to see the wisdom of Saa's oddly philosophical ways.

"Now you're catchin' on, Dar'manda," Saa gave him a brief smile and suddenly stopped to consider a flashing sign above a dimly-lit doorway.

The sign read "Krayt Cantina". Cody arched an eyebrow, even though Saa couldn't see, and eyeballed the Nikto bouncer who took one, very unimpressed look at his armor and snarled.

"Though, if you don't mind, I think I'll raise a glass or two to the past."

"Want me to go on to the ship?" Cody knew better than to allow himself to enter a bar.

He wasn't completely free from his addictions just yet. And wouldn't be, for a long time.

"Not a bad idea," Saa seemed to remember the same and he glanced at Cody over his shoulder. "I'll see if I can pick up a contract, too, for the morning. I'll be happier the sooner we can leave this stinking rock behind us."

Cody just nodded in silent agreement.

"If you're not back before sunrise, I'm coming back to haul you out of whatever mess you've gotten yourself into," he warned, with another wary glance at the Nikto.

"I wouldn't expect any less."

Saa flashed a lop-sided, if sad, sort of grin. Cody watched, silent, as the Miraluka imposter slipped past the growling bouncer. He caught a glimpse of moving bodies and a whiff of alcohol, before he turned his head and made his way back toward the docking bay.

Tay crossed his mind and he figured it was as good a time as any to find a little peace and quiet.

* * *

"We've got a passenger. Let's roll."

Saa's voice sounded distant and muffled, as if he was talking to Cody through water. Slowly, the clone struggled out of his meditative consciousness and he blinked owlishly in the dim light of the cargo bay. He glanced at his chrono and blinked again - Saa had only been gone for four short hours.

"That was quick."

"Found a contract that didn't seem too shifty and didn't ask a lot of questions," Saa just shrugged and he nudged Cody's boot with a good-natured grin. "This is what happens when you let the pros do the job."

"I'll remind you that you left _me_ in charge," Cody groaned as he stood up; he'd been sitting still for far too long and his back had seized up. "And you went into a_ bar_."

"And?" Saa just grinned - Cody could smell the alcohol on his breath, so he wasn't sure if it was the contract that was making him so chipper after the days events, or the whiskey.

"And," Cody just shrugged. "Just don't think you're the only 'pro' on board."

The old Anobian just threw back his head and laughed.

"_Ad'ika_, there's a world of difference between being a 'pro' on a battlefield and being a 'pro' in the underworld."

"I could have gotten us a contract just fine," Cody mumbled - he'd been enjoying his meditation and being pulled out of it early wasn't improving his temper.

Saa just waved him off.

"I'll go get this thing into the air. Go sort yourself out and I'll see you in the cockpit in twenty. I'll need help configuring for hyperdrive."

"That's what the astromech's for," Cody muttered mulishly.

"But, it's so much more fun when I have something organic to curse at," Saa shot back with a grin.

Cody just rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched the limping mercenary saunter through the cargo bay door, into the interior of the ship.

Grumbling to himself, Cody followed suit, though instead of keeping straight to the cockpit, he turned a corner toward the crews' quarters.

He hadn't shuffled along very far, before he turned another corner and nearly ran headlong into a tall, brown-robed figure.

"Sorry," Cody put a hand out to steady their passenger.

His fingers caught on the edge of the stranger's hood and as Cody tried to pull back his hand, the shadows fell away from the man's face.

There was an awful second of profound silence, before recognition shot through Cody in a jolt of adrenaline. His shock was mirrored in blue-gray eyes and from behind a roughly-trimmed, sandy-colored beard.

General and Commander took a stumbling step away from each other.

And every single memory of Cody's past crashed down around him, as the flicker of a familiar blue blade hummed against the shadows on the bulkhead and against the shadows in Cody's soul.


	14. Waiting For the End3

_"What was left when that fire was gone? / I thought it felt right, but that right was wrong / All caught up in the eye of the storm / And trying to figure out what it's like moving on."  
_

**Linkin Park  
"Waiting For the End"**

**

* * *

**

Cody stumbled back, half-expecting the humming blue blade to take a graceful swing toward his unguarded neck. But, General Kenobi had never been a rash man, and though his blue eyes flashed angrily in the glow thrown by his lightsaber, he merely held it at a defensive ready and engaged in his first line of attack - negotiation and interrogation.

"I should have known you'd come looking for me, Commander," Obi-Wan's voice was low and harsh, just like the memory of his voice in Cody's fever-wracked dreams.

Cody remembered, in awful clarity, the words that had been spoken to him and the sparks that had shorted from his mechanical arm. He shook in the wake of his former general's voice and in the wake of his dreams.

"General," he licked his lips nervously and finally managed to gasp the title into the cool, deathly silent passageway. "It's not what you think. I -"

"So, trying to shoot me down at Utapau isn't what I thought it was, either?" Obi-Wan challenged.

His knees dipped, just slightly. It was a barely perceptible shift in his stance, but Cody registered it almost immediately. He'd spent almost three full years with the Jedi Master - the clone had come to learn the man's movements and subtle reactions almost as well as his own. Cody tensed and flinched; he knew what that dip in the knees meant.

The General was preparing to strike. Cody shook, but a sudden, fierce calm settled over him and he straightened his spine. He thought of Tay and he thought of Saa - he wasn't going to die a coward. If he was to be cut down by his own general, then it was just deserts for what he'd tried to do almost a year and a half before, on some thrice-damned Outer Rim dust-bowl.

He'd die with _some_ dignity, at least. Not sniveling, or begging, or cowering.

If he died like a Mandalorian, then at least he would have died reclaiming some part of himself.

"I tried to kill you at Utapau, General," Cody straightened his shoulders, his back.

His voice was quiet, but it was earnest. He lifted both hands and held them out in front of him, palms toward Obi-Wan in a sign of unarmed submission.

The Jedi's body tensed for a blow - just a tightening of the shoulders and a slight shift in his hips. But, he didn't strike. Not yet. His blue eyes narrowed and he considered Cody carefully from behind the safety of his gently buzzing weapon.

Cody felt a brush against his senses. It was different than Tay's gentle nudges - the sensation of Obi-Wan's Force Perception was stronger, bolder, more intrinsically _male_. Cody knew it only too well and he couldn't help feel that the sense of it was like that of an old friend. He left his mind and his heart open; for once, he bared his soul and silently _willed_ the General to "see" that he meant him no harm.

Not anymore, at least.

"Why didn't I sense you on this ship?" even in perceived danger, Obi-Wan was cautious and thorough; he had never left anything to chance or rash action.

He weighed every consideration and every permutation, even if his back was up against the wall. And some part of Cody was comforted by it - despite everything that had happened, despite everything that had gone wrong, General Kenobi was still as wise and judicious as he had always been.

He hadn't changed. Not like Cody, anyway. Not for the worst.

"I've changed, General," Cody answered with the simple truth; he shrugged, his hands still outstretched in the universal sign of peace. "I'm on the Wanted Lists, now," he added, sensing that this might make a difference in their stand-off.

This seemed to surprise Obi-Wan. He blinked, just once, and his forehead crinkled between his eyes.

"Dar'manda!" Saa's voice hollered down the passageway; his voice was accompanied by footsteps and Cody felt a momentary sense of panic.

He didn't want Saa involved in this. Not right now. Not with a Jedi's lightsaber filling up half of the ship's p-way; not with the sins of his past alive and fuming in front of him.

"What's taking your lazy_ shebs_ so long? Do you know how long it'll take us to get to Bellassa if we don't hit hyperspace? I don't know about you, but I -"

Saa stopped in mid-sentence, just as he rounded the corner and saw the intensely personal drama frozen in front of him. Cody risked a glance over his shoulder, just long enough to see that Saa had pushed his headband up onto the top of his shaven head; he had admitted to Cody, before landing in Mos Eisley, that it was harder for him to see in the dimmer lighting of space, with such dark glass over his eyes. All the same, the clone was willing to bet that Saa hadn't planned to show the truth of his face to their passenger - just as Cody hadn't expected to meet an angry Jedi in a passageway, without the protection of his armor.

For one awful, suspended second, all three men stood perfectly still and each tried to process what was rapidly unfolding before them.

Cody's mind reeled.

_Bellassa?_

"What's in Bellassa?" he finally broke the fragile moment, his voice cracking slightly with the strain of raw emotions.

"That's where we've been paid to go," Saa jerked his chin toward Obi-Wan, who's eyes flickered uncertainly from Mandalorian to clone, and back again. "Though, I hadn't realized he was a _Jetii_..."

"I hadn't realized you weren't a Miralukan," the General counted back, his voice smooth and deadly.

Cody was still stuck on the revelation of their destination.

_Bellassa!_

The color drained rapidly from his face and it wasn't because of the lightsaber that was now suddenly pointed at his unarmored solar plexus.

_Bellassa!_

Screams echoed in his ears and he began to shake.

"_Ad'ika_?" Saa spoke softly and started to reach his hand out toward Cody, as if to steady him.

"Don't move," the lightsaber wavered slightly, as if Obi-Wan was debating whether or not to turn the weapon toward the older Mandalorian.

His eyes flickered away from Cody's face, toward something behind him and a little lower down.

"Show me the Wanted Lists."

"I can show you the Wanted Lists," Saa responded slowly, in a faintly sarcastic tone that Cody recognized only too well. "But that means I'd have to move. So make up your mind, _di'kut_."

Cody was still shaking, the reality of Bellassa's memories still echoing through his mind. But, he couldn't help rolling his eyes up toward the ceiling, all the same.

Only Saa would stand to the side so blandly and call a Jedi general an idiot.

The side of Obi-Wan's mouth twitched, just slightly. But, Cody looked back down just in time to catch it.

No, even Utapau hadn't been enough to extinguish his dry sense of humor. The clone wondered absently if Saa knew who they were dealing with - given the Mandalorian's occupation during the War, Cody was inclined to think that Saa hadn't picked Kenobi out of a crowded cantina on sheer happenstance. Even if he _did_ claim that he hadn't known their contract was a Jedi.

"Show me the Lists," Obi-Wan just tightened his grip on his lightsaber and shifted on his feet once again.

This time, he rocked his weight back toward his heels. Cody knew this move as well - the Jedi was delaying his attack and switching back to the defensive. Inwardly, the former commander thanked whatever Force there was in the universe, that it was General Kenobi they'd accepted hire from, not the likes of General Skywalker,  
_  
__We'd all be dead before he'd remember to ask questions,_ he thought ruefully.

It wasn't a comfortable position, being on the business end of a wary lightsaber. But, it was infinitely reassuring to know that even if Cody _was_ run through, at least it would be after the Jedi on the other end had considered all possible options before making his move.

A datapad appeared into Cody's range of vision and Obi-Wan nodded toward the clone.

"Take it. Show me."

Cody moved carefully - the lightsaber was a mere hairsbreadth from the material of his loose-fitting flight suit. He took the datapad from Saa, without even really turning his body, and held it out toward the Jedi, so he could see.

Narrowed blue eyes shifted back and forth, as he read the list displayed in a pale light that mingled with the reflection of the lightsaber across the general's bearded face. His lips moved slightly, too, and Cody recognized the names and numbers that were formed silently, as Obi-Wan considered the List.

_Ahsoka Tano. Yoda. CC-7567. Shaak Ti. Ekria. Kal Skirata. CC-3215. CC-2224..._

Obi-Wan's stance didn't change, but his eyes shifted and gazed piercingly at Cody. The clone fought the urge to squirm underneath the grim consideration of those oddly ageless blue-gray eyes. He felt another nudge against his senses and he willed himself to stay open, to stay honest. He didn't need to be told that what happened in the next few moments would determine the outcome of their stand-off.

And even though Cody had decided to die with dignity, he preferred not to die at all.

"How?" the Jedi's eyes flickered down toward the datapad and then back up at Cody's face.

"I deserted after Order 37," Cody answered truthfully, his words raw and toneless.

"Order 37?" confusion clouded the General's face and Cody realized, with a certain awful clarity, that Obi-Wan's exile to Tatooine had also exiled him from the events that had unfolded throughout the galaxy.

"On Bellassa," he couldn't help closing his own eyes, briefly, from the pain of the memories that clamored threateningly against the fragile defenses of his mind.

"The Massacre of Bellassa?" Saa's voice interrupted, low and disbelieving.

Cody winced - he wasn't sure what was worse. Obi-Wan's random reappearance from beyond the unknown, or Saa's certain knowledge of a horror Cody wished could be permanently expunged from his past.

"Yes," Cody finally answered and his shoulders slumped, as the datapad and his hand fell to his side.

He added, almost as an afterthought -

"I was in charge of it. I -" Cody fumbled for something - anything - to say that might redeem the implications of what he had done.

In the end, he added, lamely -

"I deserted after that. To Anobis. And the mines."

There was a long, pregnant pause, during which Cody felt the weight of Obi-Wan's consideration in front of him, and Saa's thoughtful eyes behind him.

"Well, that explains a lot," Saa finally broke the silence with a slight snort. "Might have been nice to know, Dar'manda."

"That changes everything, does it?" Cody couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"_Cin vhetin_."

Cody could almost imagine Saa shrugging as he spoke; in fact, he heard a soft rustle of clothing accompany the Mando's crisply stated words. The clone glanced at Obi-Wan and saw a mixture of curiosity and confusion darken the general's face.

"What does that mean?" the Jedi demanded quietly; his lightsaber never wavered.

"It means 'white snow'," Saa spoke quietly. "It's a concept, more than a saying, really. Means a man's past doesn't matter anymore, once he's put on the armor of a Mandalorian."

"Is that what you are now, Commander? You've fallen in with the Mandalorians?" Obi-Wan's piercing gaze searched Cody's face once more.

But, before Cody could answer, Saa snorted yet again and he spoke before the former commander could.

"More like he's fallen in with a Jedi, who fell in with the Mandalorians," a smile crept into Saa's voice and into his words. "Let's at least get the sequence of events straight, gentlemen," the smile slipped back out of his voice, replaced by a sober realism. "He'd have died, if it'd been left to me at first."

Obi-Wan seemed taken aback by the mention of another Jedi. He blinked again and this time, the lightsaber wavered, just slightly. He seemed to be debating with himself again - Cody recognized the thoughtful expression that had crossed his eyes, and the slight wrinkling of the lines around his mouth.

"You've been in the company of a Jedi?"

"A healer," Cody was reluctant to give any detail about Tay, even to his former general.

The less Obi-Wan knew, the better. Still, the man deserved some sort of answer, so he edited his response carefully, hoping the Jedi would understand.

"She...found me on Anobis. Took me in. Cleaned me up."

"Cleaned you up?" blue eyes narrowed slightly.

"I got addicted. To stims and alcohol," the truth of Cody's past tasted bitter against his tongue; he paused for a long moment, before adding - "She gave me a second chance. Saa, too."

Obi-Wan just stood perfectly still, his arms tense and his lightsaber frozen in front of Cody's chest. Saa spoke softly in the silence, as if sensing what was going on inside of the General's head.

"Cody saved us both from a bounty hunter, more than a couple months back. I love that woman dearly, but she couldn't fight her way out of a flimsi bag. Without Dar'manda here, her and I would be long be dead. What happened between the two of you, _Jetii_, is something you need not worry about ever again."

"What's her name?" Obi-Wan still seemed skeptical, as he looked past Cody to consider Saa.

"Sheltay Marr."

"Let me see the Wanted List, again."

Cody lifted his hand and extended the datapad for a second time. Obi-Wan's eyes scanned the blue-glowing screen and his lips twisted downward into a frown.

"Scroll down."

Cody did as he was told. Though, the sad truth was that he couldn't defy his former general, even if he tried. Order 66 was a true singularity in the simplistic loyalty of Cody's ingrained nature - without the coded words of the Emperor rasping in his ears, the clone realized he was completely incapable of turning his hand against the man he'd once obeyed without question.

Obi-Wan's lips moved again, in silent recitation of the new names that were displayed on the screen in front of his lightsaber.  
_  
Jaing. Ordo. Mereel. Obi-Wan Kenobi. CT-3060. Saa Par'jain. Sheltay Marr..._

"I've never heard of her before. You say she was a healer? Stationed where?" the general's eyebrows pulled together in a deepening frown.

"Quite a few places, from what I understand. But, her last place of duty was MedStar 5 in Felucia's orbit," Saa answered with a certainty Cody couldn't. "Tay wasn't 'mainstream' - she was an Altisian Jedi. But, she was friends with General Offee - perhaps you know her?"

Both Cody and Obi-Wan reacted to the familiar name. Cody straightened his shoulders again and resisted the urge to look behind him, at Saa, in shocked disbelief. Instead, he searched Obi-Wan's face, which had smoothed out in the momentary surprise of recognition. The look only lasted for a moment, before he shuttered his emotions away behind the calm, poised facade Cody had come to know so well.

"I knew General Offee when she was just a Padawan, so yes. I know the name," he admitted quietly; only his voice belayed something of the sadness that moved beneath his carefully kept surface. "And not many know about the Altisian Jedi."

"So, you believe us, General?" Cody interjected hopefully.

He watched with wide-eyed amazement as Obi-Wan abruptly straightened his legs and deactivated his lightsaber. The p-way seemed almost dark, in the absence of the weapon's blue-glow and the Jedi's face deepened in shadow.

"Yes, I believe you."

Something like a sigh whispered behind Cody and he glanced behind him to catch a momentary flash of relief pass across Saa's face. The clone was secretly surprised to realize that the tough old Mandalorian had actually been _worried_ - then again, Cody mused, Jedi weren't known for activating their lightsabers unless they meant to use them.

They had both had a close brush with death, though Cody couldn't help but feel that his, at least, would have been justified. They had only been saved by Kenobi's legendary calm and rational deliberation. Very few, in his circumstances, would have asked questions before defending themselves.

But, then, Cody had always known General Kenobi to be that way.

Somethings truly never changed. Not the core of a man, at least. Not a _good_ man.

He turned his attention back toward his former general, though, when he felt something brush against his senses for a third and final time. Cody met Obi-Wan's gaze and he knew, even as completely insensitive to the Force as he was, that who he had become was being measured and weighed.

The clone stood, quietly, until Obi-Wan finally decided to speak again and the pressure of his consideration had drawn away.

"You've got the mark of a man who's been to the Dark Side and back, Commander," the Jedi's words were unimaginably gentle and Cody nearly hung his head in shame.

He didn't deserve grace, or mercy, or pity, or forgiveness. Not from Tay. Not from General Kenobi.

He felt a gentle nudge against his mind.

"I think you've got a lot of explaining to do."

"I second that," Saa agreed abruptly and something about his brisk tone broke Cody out of the depression that was threatening to pull him done. "But, how about you do that _after_ we've reached hyperspace? I'd like to get back home sometime in the next millennium, if either of you don't mind."

* * *

The three men were quiet for a long time, each one drawn deep into his own thoughts. Getting into hyperspace took only a matter of minutes, but the cockpit was quiet for at least a good thirty minutes after. It was Obi-Wan who finally broke the silence, his voice deep and mellow.

"So, tell me more about this healer of yours."

He directed the statement toward Cody, but it was Saa who answered, his own voice calm and measured.

"No offense, _Jetii_...but you know how the galaxy is these days. The less you know, the safer we all are."

"Of course," Cody watched out of the corner of his eye, as Obi-Wan grimaced slightly and hung his head to inspect the tops of his boots.

It was then, that the clone realized what Order 66 _had_ done to his general. It had worn Obi-Wan Kenobi down; it had made him older, shabbier, rougher. Cody remembered how immaculate the famous "Negotiator" had always been - except for those times directly after battle, Obi-Wan had always been well-groomed, well-dressed, and quietly confident.

Now... Now, he was shabby, his clothes still neat and clean, but faded from wear-and-tear. The edges of his robe were frayed slightly and his beard wasn't as well-trimmed as it had once been, during the Wars. There were more lines about his eyes, more about his mouth. He looked tired and jaded, his shoulders not as straight and proud as they had once been.

But, there was still something of who he'd once been, about him. In his eyes, in the way he talked. In the faint smile that still tugged wryly on the edges of his lips whenever something struck his fancy. There was still a sense of honor and _goodness _about him - and both gave Cody a sense of hope.

"I don't mean to pry, of course," Obi-Wan interrupted Cody's quiet scrutiny. "It's just..." he paused and leaned forward in his chair, to put his elbows on his knees. "Difficult, I suppose you could say. With so few of us left."

His words were barely above a whisper, but all of his longing and loss were wrapped up in them, in layers of sorrow. Cody turned around in his own chair, not able to look at Obi-Wan's suddenly care-worn face any longer. Something of his general's emptiness echoed in him and he remembered the emptiness that he'd found in Tay.

It felt, sometimes, as if the galaxy itself was hollow, full of empty spaces that could never be filled again.

_Bellassa_ whispered in the back of his mind and he shuddered. Suddenly, something in what Obi-Wan had admitted clicked in Cody's head and his eyes flew wide as he swiveled his co-pilot's chair to watch his general's reaction.

"You're going to Bellassa to track down Ferus Olin, aren't you?"

Cody's abrupt jump in logic had the expected result - Obi-Wan sat straight up, his spine stiff, his own eyes wide with surprise. That was closely followed by a shuttered reaction, as he carefully hid his response behind a well-schooled calm.

"Yes," he didn't elaborate any further, but his blue eyes narrowed just slightly. "How do you know about Padawan Olin?"

It was Cody's turn to hide his emotions behind a mask of indifference. He just shrugged, as if it were nothing and looked away. For a moment, his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, but he finally managed to admit the truth in two damming words.

"Order 37."

There was a long and very awkward pause. Cody stared resolutely out the spacious cockpit windows, into the black void of hyperspace. But, he could feel both Saa and Obi-Wan considering him, both waiting for the truth to come spilling out.

It had been hard enough to admit the truth to Tay, but once Cody started talking, the words came easier this time, as if they had been waiting for this moment.

"A group of stormtroopers were sent to Bellassa not long after the war - I was in charge of them. We were ordered to hunt down Ferus Olin - it was one of many hundreds of orders given after Order 66. I suppose I don't need to tell you that the Emperor wants any living memory of the Jedi stamped out. Forever."

Cody didn't dare look at Obi-Wan. It was hard enough to remember his betrayal at Utapau. Admitting the atrocities he'd committed afterwards, was enough to tear him apart all over again. He couldn't bear to see the truth of what his former general thought of him, of what he had become.

"Order 37 gave us license to take the civilian population hostage. We did. We killed anyone who resisted - old men and young boys, mostly. No one knew anything about Olin, but we heard rumors that this one woman was safeguarding him. I watched my men beat and rape her, kill her son," Cody's stomach roiled at his words, at the truth. "I let them kill _her._"

"And this is when you deserted?"

Cody had expected silence, but Obi-Wan had patiently pieced the broken admissions of his commander's past together. The clone just nodded, still sickened by the memories of what he'd done. He swallowed heavily, took a deep breath to ease his stomach, and continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We never found Olin. For all I know, he was never on Bellassa to begin with. But, I deserted after that. Sold my armor. Sold everything. Caught a charter to Anobis, drowned myself in whiskey the first chance I got, and tried not to remember. Until Tay found me."

"Hmph," Saa kept the silence from taking over; Cody watched him out of the corner of his eye, as the older Mandalorian leaned back in his pilot's chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

There was a strange, semi-thoughtful look on Saa's weathered face.

"That explains a lot."

"I've told Tay," Cody suddenly felt a strange need to defend himself - he hadn't realized, until that moment, how much Saa's opinion of him meant.

Fear snaked around his heart. It was all fine and well to talk about lofty ideals like "_cin vhiten_", when one didn't know the total truth about a man's past. He turned his head and looked back out the windows, refusing to look either Saa or Obi-Wan in the eye.

"I lost my soul on Utapau. But, I died on Bellassa. I'm not Commander Cody. Not anymore."

"Wouldn't matter anyway, _ad'ika_," Saa seemed to sense what Cody was thinking, as he often did, in his strangely perceptive way. "The concept of _cin vhiten_ has applied to men and women who have made far greater mistakes than you have. The _Resol'nare_ exists for those who have darker pasts and darker hearts than any of us in this cockpit - including you," Saa reached out across the space between them and grabbed Cody's forearm in a strong, reassuring grip. "There's no need to believe yourself a _dar'manda_ for the rest of your life."

"And yet, that's what you call me," Cody still wouldn't look at him.

Saa just squeezed his arm a little tighter - it was a father's touch, warm, firm, steadying.

"Because of what you're _not_. Not because of what you _are_ or what you _were_."

Bellassa echoed in Cody's mind, Utapau flashed across his memory. He shook under Saa's hand and he gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles whitened. With a tightening of his jaw, Cody finally turned his head and faced the embodiment of all his sins, of all his regrets, of all he'd left behind.

"I'm sorry, General," he blurted out the words; they were raw and fierce in their blunt conviction. "I'm sorry for all of it."

He wanted to say it, but he couldn't quite force himself to admit all of his wrongdoings. But, he regretted everything that he had ever done since Order 66. There was nothing Cody wanted more than absolution - forgiveness. For trying to kill the man sitting in front of him. For Order 37. For hunting down other Jedi. For Waxer. For that young Twi'lek Padawan. For Anobis. For his addictions. For his weakness. For his dishonor.

A heavy silence fell over them and filled the space inside the cockpit with a mixture of despair, anxiety, and sadness. Cody hung his head and wasn't sure what was worse - waiting for words he was sure would damn him for everything he'd ever done wrong, or waiting for nothing at all.

He had asked for forgiveness, but he didn't expect it.

So, when a shadow fell over him, and a dry, warm hand took him by the shoulder, Cody flinched and prepared himself for the worst.

The hand was firm and so was Obi-Wan's voice.

"Look at me, Cody."

It had been a long time since he'd called him by just his name - his name, not his rank, not his number. They'd become close enough, through all of the fighting and the mayhem of war, that they would sometimes call each other by familiar titles in the quiet, private moments when the galaxy just left them both alone. But, it had been over a year, nearly two, since Cody had heard his name spoken by the one Jedi he respected above all others.

He slowly lifted his head and what he found in those blue-gray eyes, surprised him.

For a long time, nothing was said. Nothing at all. Obi-Wan stood over him, his shadow protective, not derisive; his touch redemptive, not destructive.

And then the words came, as if they took a great effort to say. As much effort as it had taken Cody to say his.

They were just three simple words. But, the truth of them was mirrored in the sincerity of Obi-Wan's face, in his stance, in his eyes.

"I forgive you."

Something quietly ended, for Cody, in those three words. And something new began.


	15. Waiting For the End4

___"I know what it takes to move on / I know how it feels to lie / All I wanna do is trade this life for something new / Holding on to what I haven't got."_

**Linkin Park  
"Waiting For the End"**

**

* * *

**

The three men talked, then. At first, it was mostly Cody who talked, as his defenses slowly melted away in the wake of a forgiveness he hadn't dared to hope for, or had ever expected to receive.

He talked about Order 66, and about the shame and the confusion he had never been able to shake. He talked about Bellassa and about the screams that still woke him up at night. He talked about taking hand-picked teams and tracking down wanted Jedi - women, children, old men, youths in the primes of their lives. He talked about losing Waxer and about Boil's numb, emotionless reaction to losing a man who was more than just a brother - a man who was Boil's best friend. He talked about how selling his armor for the price of a ticket to Anobis, made him feel like he was losing that part of him that was most iconic, most quintessentially 'Commander Cody'.

He admitted that that was the day he stopped thinking of himself as a veteran, or a soldier, or an officer, or even as a man. He talked about the depths of his depression, about the cycle of stims and abuse. He talked about the scars on his thighs, about the back-breaking days hunched over in the mines, about the squalor of the bars. He talked about Tay, then, too, his tone almost wistful, until he stuttered to a stop and flushed.

Cody didn't say much about her - he didn't _want _to say a lot. She was the one good thing he horded for himself - she was his _radiance_ - and he realized, yet again, just how much he missed her, now that she wasn't around him.

If Obi-Wan and Saa noticed the awkward pause that cut Cody's words short, they had the good graces not to mention it. Though, Saa made a slight chuckling sort of noise and Cody's ears brightened red at the sight of the slight smile that tugged up the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth.

It was the Jedi's turn to talk, after that.

"You say you dream of Utapau," he began, with a distant sort of look in his eyes. "I do, too. In my dream, I don't challenge you, Cody. Or cut off your arm. In my dreams, your aim is true and I fall from that varactyl to my death."

The warmth of Tay's memory seeped away from Cody, at those words, and he stared, grim, at the tops of his boots. It had never once really crossed his mind, to think that maybe the great General Kenobi struggled with nightmares and memories, too, of what "could have been." Of what was meant to be. It humbled him to think that the events of Utapau had scarred far more than himself - it shamed him, too.

"I will admit, though, that there have been days since then, when I have struggled with the acceptance of your humanity. I have struggled to remember you as a man," Cody lifted his eyes and their gazes met solemnly. "I have struggled to remember you as a _friend_."

Obi-Wan studied Cody for a moment and the clone struggled to remember the grace that already been given him. He was forgiven - he could see it in the General's eyes, in his face and hear it in his tone. But, it was still hard to accept. It was even harder to hear of the aftermath of what he had done and the wounds that he had left in a man he would still go after into the Corellian hells.

"But, like you, I've had help," a slight smile eased some of the grimmer lines around Obi-Wan's lips as his eyes softened. "I've seen hope," he held out his hands in front of his lap, his eyes now distant, as if remembering something. "I've held him in my hands."

The Jedi's eyes focused and he glanced up, first at Cody and then at Saa, as if realizing that he'd said more than he had intended. But, Saa was staring up thoughtfully at the ceiling, feigning deafness, and Cody wasn't sure at all of what was being said.

He was a man of blunt terms and stark reality. Metaphors went over his head and it seemed that Obi-Wan was talking in metaphor - a uniquely Jedi habit, the clone had long come to realize. But, there was one thing Cody understood.

And that was hope.

"There's hope, still, General?" he prompted gently.

"Yes," Obi-Wan paused a moment, before allowing himself a worn, but genuine smile. "There's always hope."

He reached out and tapped Cody on the knee. The clone and his general considered each other for a minute and Cody found a smile of his own pulling up his lips in response to the hopeful shine that had lit up Obi-Wan's face.

"You're hope, Cody, sitting here in this old freighter. You're not my enemy any more and that's hope," the melancholy that had settled over all of them, finally vanished and the cockpit felt warm, as if a gentle summer sun had found them. "I find hope in your story of another Jedi, who has stayed true to who she is and reached out to save another life."

He leaned back and absently stroked his beard; his eyes turned a bit thoughtful.

"I would have condemned her once, your Tay, for being an Altisian Jedi. I would have feared for her and her willingness to have attachments. But, now I see the folly of our ways and maybe if we'd listened to more mavericks, like Altis, we could have saved ourselves."

Cody hung on every word - he couldn't remember another time when Obi-Wan had spoken so frankly. Even in private, during the war, the General had kept some sense of professional detachment about him. But that was gone now, and in its place was a warmth and an open, unbarred honesty that was both refreshing and enlightening.

"We need compassion in this galaxy, if we're to pull through these dark times. We need attachment, love, mercy, and - dare I say it - _passion_. As I overheard a small youngling in the Temple say once," the Jedi's lips twitched upward at the memory. "We need to be action verbs."

Saa chuckled and Cody glanced over at him. The Mandalorian was still staring up at the ceiling, his boots propped up on the cockpit console, but he was listening to the exchange of memories, thoughts, and feelings. Cody was silently thankful for Saa's wisdom - he sat patiently on the sideline, knowing that the conversation had to take place between general and commander for the healing to be complete. He stayed out of it, except for his occasional chuckle and Cody was grateful for the respectful distance.

"That's why I'm on my way to Bellassa," Obi-Wan admitted, his tone contemplative.

He'd turned a bit in his chair to look out of the cockpit window and Cody followed his gaze. For a moment, there was silence.

"I've sat in exile on Tatooine all this time, struggling with my hurt, my anger, my fear. Everything fell apart so quickly and it left me feeling lost. My second-in-command's loyalty to the Republic had been used as a weapon against me -"

Cody flinched, but the truth was spoken casually, without any trace of lingering anger or rancor.

"My own apprentice's fear, and anger, and obsession had been used to turn him against us all."

This revelation surprised Cody and his curiosity gave him the courage to interrupt the aching sadness that now seemed to have overtaken his formerly smiling general.

"General Skywalker...?" all the same, Cody was only able to say the name, his question left unspoken.

"Turned to the Dark Side," Obi-Wan closed his eyes and pushed a rough sigh through his teeth as he ran his fingers through badly-cut hair. "There's no more General Skywalker, Cody. He's dead. There's only Darth Vader, now."

The name had significant meaning to Cody; he could feel the blood draining out of his face as he remembered the imposing, frightening figure in black who had taken over the 501st. The truth of Vader's identity robbed the clone of speech for several long seconds - something like horror gripped his soul.

And, yet, all the same, the truth didn't shock him. There had been something strangely familiar about the mysterious commander who had appeared out of nowhere. Cody hadn't been a part of the 501st who had stormed the Temple that dark day - and no one ever spoke of who had lead them. Truth be told, there wasn't a single clone who spoke of what had happened. None of them did - no one wanted to share their memories of Order 66. The memories were too painful, too shameful.

Even among men who had been programmed to obey orders, there was a silent understanding that there were some orders that they should never have obeyed.

"Would you believe, Cody, that the whole War - every blasted battle, every man we lost - was a calculated strategy? The Clone Wars were engineered with three goals in mind - to destroy the Republic, to wipe out the Jedi, and to shape a Sith apprentice," there was bitterness in Obi-Wan's voice, but Cody was no longer shocked by much.

He couldn't blame his general his bitterness. He felt the same way, about Kamino, about the clones' role in the Republic.

"Seems we were all duped," Saa finally joined the conversation, his gravely voice low and somber.

"Which is why I think even anger is justified," Obi-Wan continued staring out the window, but his hands were balled up into fists on top of the arms of his chair. "We need righteous anger and lots of it. This galaxy needs to realize what was done to it and it needs to get _angry_."

"Even an old Mando can tell you that anger's not the word you're looking for," Saa pointed out gently - something of a memory echoed in his voice and Cody knew he was remembering Galidraan. "What you mean to say, General, I think, is that this galaxy needs to get_ indignant_."

"You're a wise man," Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face; he paused and gave Cody a rather wry look. "As you can tell, I'm still struggling through my own issues."

"If anyone knows anything about anger, it's a Mandalorian," Saa snorted in reply. "We could also tell you just how far our anger's gotten us, too. Which, by the way, is this current mess we're sittin' in. The Wars, the aftermath, isn't all to blame on the _Jetiise_, or the_ Dar'jetiise_. We all got played - every last one of us. Which is why," Saa finally shifted his gaze from the ceiling and looked from Obi-Wan to Cody. "We all need to set aside our greed, our hatred, our obsessions, our _anger_, and start working together to put right what's gone wrong."

"I couldn't have said it better," Obi-Wan looked humbled and he bowed his head respectfully in Saa's direction. "I kept myself locked up on Tatooine for over a year and got out of touch with the rest of the galaxy. Today's the first time I've seen the Wanted Lists," he motioned toward Cody and sighed. "But, as I realized just a few days ago, the time for mourning's over. It's time to get out into the galaxy at large and to see what can be done."

"So, you'll start with Ferus Olin?" Cody titled his head to the side, curious.

"So, I'll start with Ferus Olin," Obi-Wan nodded, his expression a study in determination. "It's time to find other Jedi and to remind them that we're not as alone as we think we are."

An idea took seed in Cody's mind, at those words. He thought of the names on the Wanted Lists - Rex, Fox, Boil, Fives, Keeli. There were still brothers out there like himself - deserters, who had defied their orders for what was right. Like the Jedi, they were scattered; like the Jedi, they deserved to be reminded of hope; like the Jedi, they needed to be reminded that they weren't alone.

Cody carefully acknowledged the idea that was forming. For now, it was vague and nearly formless. But, it was there, in the back of his mind. There, he knew it would grow into form, into a plan, into action. But, at the same time, now wasn't the place to force it. So, he acknowledged it and set it aside; he'd have time enough to consider it, once he got back home.

_Home_. Was that what Anobis was, now? Cody thought of Tay and realized that he thought of home as being where she was. He leaned back in his chair, brushed his fingers against the blade that was still tucked inside the sleeve of his flight-suit, and enjoyed the sensation of warmth and hope that came with any thought of who he'd left behind. On Anobis. At home.

He looked over at his general - Obi-Wan was tired and worn, but still solidly resolute despite everything that had happened to him. Despite Cody's attempt to kill him, despite the turning of his padawan, despite the darkness that fallen over the galaxy. Cody admired that quiet strength of his, which had always persisted in the face of overwhelming adversity. He had seen it countless times, on the battlefield, on the bridge, in the planning room - above all things, he thought of _strength_ when he thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

At that moment, Cody realized that he missed the past and for once, it didn't hurt. He missed having his general in command; he missed standing quietly in front of a port window and watching a world fade away while Obi-Wan stood next to him; he missed being "Commander" Cody and all that that had once entailed.

He realized, with no small amount of surprise, that he wanted one last chance to do it right.

"General Kenobi," Cody started, but Obi-Wan cut him off with a wave of the hand.

"You really do need to stop calling me that," he smiled, a bit bemused. "That's a name for the past."

Cody just shrugged and continued, undaunted.

"Do you think you could use some help where you're going?"

Cody glanced over at Saa and the Mando met his gaze. The clone had half-expected Saa to protest, but the mercenary's green eyes were thoughtful.

"I don't think -" Obi-Wan looked distinctly uncomfortable, once he realized just what Cody was asking.

"The girls won't be happy," Saa interrupted as he reached up and stroked his goatee.

"Really, you two! I -"

"He's just a Jedi, though," Cody started to smile roguishly.

"Wait! What? I -" Obi-Wan sputtered.

"He _could_ use some firepower," Saa conceded, thoughtful.

"I -" Obi-Wan started again.

"But, you're right. Hella'll skin us alive," Cody wrinkled his nose.

Obi-Wan seemed to have realized he'd lost the argument.

"You need the experience, though. Never pass up an opportunity, my old _buir_ would say," Saa shrugged. "Hella will deal with it."

There was a moment of silence, before Obi-Wan sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for sanity.

"You really want to come with me, don't you, Cody?"

"I don't imagine we'll ever get another chance like this, General," Cody stubbornly insisted on using the title he'd always used for the ginger-haired Jedi. "I don't think our paths will cross again after this."

Obi-Wan looked back down at him and his face mirrored Saa's thoughtfulness.

"No, I don't believe they will...Commander."

He spoke Cody's old title gently and something of an understanding passed silently between them. Cody had been given forgiveness, but he still needed active absolution. He still wanted one last chance to stand at his general's back and protect him on his first foray into a new, darker, subtler sort of war.

Cody still needed one last chance to make the past right again. The clone offered a soft, lopsided sort of grin and after a moment, Obi-Wan returned it. Cody sighed, suddenly filled with a sense of happiness and contentment with himself that he hadn't had in ages. Still cautious, though, he glanced at Saa - there wasn't any deal, unless the older merc was on board with the idea.

"We'll need to be paid," Saa - ever practical - eyed Obi-Wan skeptically.

The Jedi rolled his eyes at the ceiling and sighed.

"Mandalorians never do anything out of the good graces of their hearts, do they?"

"Not last time I checked," Saa retorted, deadpan; Cody saw a bit of a twinkle in his green eyes, though, and the clone grinned.

"In our defense, we're borrowing the ship and someone else's time," Cody glanced over at Obi-Wan and offered the explanation that was owed. "The longer we're gone, the more we need to be mindful of coming back with a profit so she doesn't lose hers."

"When put that way, payment is perfectly understandable," Obi-Wan tugged at the edges of his beard and fixed Saa with a rather corporate sort of look. "Name your price. I should be able to match it."

Saa didn't say a word. He just grabbed the nearest datapad and punched in some numbers, before handing it to Obi-Wan. The Jedi looked the screen over, his face blank, before he nodded and handed it back to Saa.

"Half now and the other half when you've decided you're tired of us," Saa lifted an eyebrow.

"Consider it done," Obi-Wan nodded crisply and held out his hand.

Mandalorian and Jedi grasped forearms and the deal was set. Cody watched the iconic moment pass and couldn't shake the feeling that Saa had agreed go along with Cody's wishes for reasons that had very little to do with making a profit or with appeasing a temperamental Togorian.

"Why?" he asked as the other two men settled back in their seats; Cody's eyes never left Saa's face.

"It's an honorable contract, made for honorable reasons," Saa replied calmly as he tucked the datapad away into a pant pocket. "The best kind of contract there is. The girls won't be happy," he shrugged. "But, I have to admit, it's worth it to me. You need this," he suddenly winked and an almost boyish grin lit up his weathered face. "And I have to admit, I'd be a fool to turn down a chance to roll along with the likes of General Kenobi and Commander Cody. You two are quite legendary."

Obi-Wan's face turned a bit pink and Cody sputtered. Saa's admiration of them was a strange and unexpected thing, so he just tucked his chin in toward his chest and tried not to feel_ too_ embarrassed. Saa just laughed.

"Did you even know who I was when you picked me up?" Obi-Wan crossed his arms a bit indignantly over his chest.

"Not a clue," Saa grinned and shrugged. "You had your face hid underneath that huge hood of yours and I wasn't in a mood to ask any questions. I just wanted an easy contract with an easy fee. But, I've been realizing who you are while you and Dar'manda have been talking. I have to admit, I'm quite impressed," Saa glanced over at Cody, his expression suddenly appraising. "And this is the first time I've realized who Dar'manda really is, too. All together, this has been a rather enlightening happenstance."

"You knew about us? During the War?" Cody was being enlightened himself; there was always something new to Saa.

"I was a spy," the merc laughed comfortably. "It was my business to know about everyone," he flashed a brief grin and cocked his head to the side. "The two of you were often talked about - I had a discussion about you with Del even, once. Whether either of you realize it or not, 'General Kenobi and Commander Cody' were the template that all Jedi and clone commanders looked to, when trying to figure out how best to work together. Few ever managed the relationship the two of you found and I knew a lot who tried."

"Oh," Cody could feel his ears turning red and he glanced over at Obi-Wan, bemused.

"You know," Obi-Wan looked thoughtful, as if he were trying to place Saa in the files of memory. "I don't believe I've yet caught your name."

"Saa Par'jain" was the cheerful response. "You wouldn't have heard of me. I didn't exist during the War. And even now, I only exist on the Wanted Lists."

"You're a man of surprises, Saa Par'jain," Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and Cody snorted.

"That's an understatement," the clone muttered and Saa reached out to punch him lightly on the arm.

"A little mystery goes a long way, Dar'manda. Kamino only taught you direct attack, but sometimes it pays to leave even your friends a few questions to ponder."

"Why do you call him 'Dar'manda'?" Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in a puzzled frown.

Cody sighed - the question was rather inevitable, he supposed. Saa just grinned.

"To Mandalorians, a fellow Mando who knows his heritage, but doesn't wear the armor or follow the _Resol'nare_ - the Six Actions - is a man without a soul, or a '_dar'manda_'. By his own admission, he lost something of himself when he sold his armor after Bellassa," Saa glanced over at Cody, but his expression was fond and almost paternal. "I'm just trying to help him find what he never had. I call him 'Dar'manda' to remind him of what he has yet to earn."

"And you don't mind this, Cody?" Obi-Wan seemed surprised.

"I did in the beginning," Cody shrugged, thoughtful. "But, not so much anymore. All my life, I was raised, and trained, and programmed to be a soldier. I lost a large part of who I was, when I deserted. For a long time now, I've been struggling to figure out who I am and forge a new identity. My blood and bone are Mandalorian - cloned, maybe, but cloned from a Mando'ad all the same. If I can't be a soldier of the Republic, then I figure I should be what my blood tells me I am."

"And don't worry,_ Jetii,_" Saa added softly. "He has a good teacher. He'll learn the ways of the Mando'ad, but he'll learn to live that way with honor."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment, but then he looked at Cody and his gaze was as firm as a handshake.

"You've got my six, Commander?" he asked gently; there was a lot of trust in his words and Cody responded instinctively in kind.

The clone grinned for just a moment and then nodded solemnly. He knew what was being asked - _you'll never be my enemy?_

"No worries, General. I've got your six."

* * *

"It would have been nice to have been included in on this decision," Hella's arms were crossed and her tone was distinctly tart.

Cody could see her tail flick back and forth in irritation; her hazy blue image projected from the visual comlink embedded in the console, did very little to downplay the reality of her disapproval. For the first time ever, Cody watched in amazement as Saa sputtered and flushed.

Apparently, even raising a daughter did little to equip a man in how to properly defuse an irritated female. The thought comforted Cody, on a rather weird level and he even allowed himself a moment of amusement at Saa's expense.

"Is the contract at least paying well?" Hella leaned forward slightly at the waist and put her hands on her hips; her tail curled slowly above her ears.

"Quite," Saa pushed air out between his teeth and Cody recognized the sound as a sigh of relief. "He's paying at least twice what a normal contract would catch you on Anobis."

"Hmm," the topic of payment seemed to mollify Hella somewhat and she leaned back, hand still on her hips. "Well, that is something, at least."

"I taught you this trade, ad'ika," Saa raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "Do you really think I'd stiff you?"

"Well, no," Hella admitted and had the good graces to look a little bit ashamed. "But, I must admit, you have seemed quite partial to strange causes, ever since the war ended."

Cody resisted the urge to glance behind him at Obi-Wan. They had contacted Hella with the Jedi still in the cockpit, since it only seemed fair that whatever was said, was said in front of all three of them. But, in the interest of keeping Obi-Wan's identity from Hella, Cody had swiveled his chair to a strategic angle, so that their "contract" would remain hidden from the visual comlink.

The clone was becoming uncomfortable with how much Saa kept from his daughter. Especially since Hella wasn't stupid and it made Cody nervous to think about how much she may have already figured out on her own. There was too much_ not_ being said between the two, and Cody wasn't sure how long it could go on, before something tragic blew up in their faces.

Saa, however, just shrugged at Hella's words and remained as stubbornly evasive as always.

"This is a good opportunity to take Dar'manda out and see what he's made of. And I figure, the two of you females can survive a little longer in mutually occupied space."

"Hella's actually been a great help," a light, familiar voice stirred something inside of Cody and he leaned forward almost eagerly toward the comlink.

Tay's blue-tinted holographic image appeared next to the Togorian and her smile was radiant, even from half a galaxy away.

"She's been helping Sazen and his uncle with their herds - it's the start of calf season, so she's making fair pay as hired help," Tay explained cheerfully, completely oblivious to Hella's rueful expression and rolling eyes. "And she's been helping me in the fields - there's a lot to clear out and set in order before planting season. It's only a standard month away and I could never do what needs to be done by myself. I've always had to hire help, before."

"So, in other words, the two of you aren't ready to kill each other yet?" Saa hid a laugh behind his hand and a strategic cough.

"Not at all," Tay beamed and Hella just made a sort of noise that was probably meant to be a growl, but ended up sounding like a mewl instead. "We both have plenty to keep us busy."

"I will be glad when I do not have to live like a farmer," the Togorian crossed her arms again, as if that was the end of the discussion.

Her ears flickered a bit and her tail curled in a different, almost shy sort of way. Cody didn't know a thing about Togorian body language, but Saa just gave up trying to hide his amusement and laughed.

"But, until we bring your bucket of bolts home, you won't go stark raving mad," he flashed his teeth in the dim-lit cockpit; Hella just grumbled.

"The _Ijaa_ is not a bucket of bolts."

Saa just chuckled and Tay quietly interjected with a question that a note of wistfulness to it.

"So, you don't know how long you'll both be gone?"

"I'm afraid not," Saa sobered up almost instantly and shook his head; he glanced over at Cody and then back at the comlink. "We've told our contract we're his, until he's tired of us."

"Well...don't be gone too long. We..." Tay paused for just half a heartbeat, before adding, "We miss you."

Hella said nothing, but she nodded just once in silent agreement.

"Is Cody there?" Tay put her hands behind her back and tilted her head to the side, her voice shy and hesitant.

"Right next to me," Saa reached out and slapped Cody soundly across the shoulder, once and then twice.

Tay's head turned, following the sound and Cody realized Saa hadn't done that "just because." Tay wouldn't be able to really use her Force Sense to feel him, not through a comlink. And she couldn't see him. But, she could still hear and knowing where he was in relation to Saa helped her turn to him and address him directly for the first time.

"Hello, Cody," she smiled, but it was still shy, still uncertain.

"Tay," Cody replied, his own feelings still mildly conflicted and unsure.

Hella, in classic Par'jain style, just rolled her eyes and huffed.

"You two need to be locked up in a room together, when you come home, Dar'manda."

Tay turned her face suddenly toward Hella in shock and she bit her lip while Saa struggled not to burst into laughter. Cody felt his face flush and he didn't even need the Force to know that Obi-Wan was shaking with his own supressed mirth behind him.

"Well! Since Hella went there," now it was Tay's turn to sound tart. "I don't think I'd mind that much at all."

Tay's sudden display of spunk shut all of the men up. She put her hands on her hips, in mimic of Hella, and stuck her jaw out stubbornly. The hologram was darker about her cheeks and nose, and Cody could tell that she was blushing furiously.

Cody half-expected himself to be embarrassed, too...but he wasn't. Instead, he rather felt like puffing out his chest and grinning like a fool.

_Is this how Rex felt around Tano?_ he wondered, absently.

It did, indeed, beg the question, if the kama was _entirely_ to blame for Rex's swagger.

"And on that note," Tay seemed to have realized what she said and she looked ready to bolt.

She stopped herself with obvious effort, though, and turned toward Cody, her chin held high, despite the blush that showed through even on a hologram.

"Be safe, Cody," she paused, as if suddenly uncertain, and then she blurted hastily - "I'll contact you later, perhaps?"

"I'd like that," Cody tried not to sound too much like an awkward school-boy, but he didn't think he had much success.

He refused to look over at Saa and was eterenally grateful that Obi-Wan was hidden _behind_ him.

"Be safe, too, Saa'_buir_," Tay switched her attention abruptly back to Saa and safer ground. "Don't be gone too long."

And, with that, Tay disappeared from the comlink, her face still flushed a deep blue in the hologram as she beat a hasty retreat. Hella remained behind, a suddenly smug expression curling up the edges of her muzzle.

She looked slyly at Cody and flashed him the first genuine grin he'd ever gotten from her.

"Just do us all a favor, Dar'manda, and give her a proper kiss when you come back. She was absolutely insufferable right after you left."

Cody decided, right then and there, that the casual Mandalorian attitude toward sexuality and affection would be the death of him - by sheer embarassment. He fought to keep from blushing too hard and fixed as fierce of a scowl on his face as possible.

"What I do when I come home isn't anybody's business," he snapped, but then Saa and Hella started to laugh.

"_Ad'ika_, you're going to be a member of this_ aliit_ whether you want to be or not," the mercenary's green eyes danced mischeviously. "_Everything_ you do is anybody's business."

Cody sputtered and Hella giggled. Her ears flickered forward in amusement and she barred her teeth at in him a wide grin.

"We Par'jains are very nosy," Hella practically purred as she leaned forward and waved her tail at him. "Welcome to the business, Dar'manda. Get used to it."

* * *

Cody thought it was a bit hypocritical for Saa to be so openly nosy about his love life, but so tight-lipped when it came to telling his daughter about things she should have known. And, for that matter, Cody was fairly certain that Hella kept her own secrets from Saa - the Par'jains might be nosy, but they were full of contradictions like all Mandalorians. They selectively chose what secrets to divulge, while expecting answers from others.

In the end, though, he couldn't blame them their curiosity and blunt observations. Tay was dear to Saa - it didn't take a whole lot of reasoning to figure that out. And even if Hella was suspicious of Tay's past, it was obvious that the practical Togorian still considered the Miralukan a part of her clan and family. They both cared about Tay and they were both protective of her in their own seperate ways; what happened to her heart meant a great deal to both of them. And since Tay had even admitted to Cody to having feelings for him, he figured it was no great mystery that the two of them were feeling each other out and trying to decide how to approach a relationship with one another.

No, he couldn't fault them for being curious. They all wanted happiness in the end - though Cody wished Saa and Hella would both learn to not be quite so blunt in their public observations.

He was embarrassed for a while and couldn't quite look Obi-Wan and Saa in the eye. But, even if it was at his and Tay's expense, the pointed banter from Hella had cleared the air of heavier concerns. For a while, things felt almost lighthearted on board the _Ijaa_ - which, Cody learned, was the Mando'a word for "honor."

Talk soon turned toward Bellassa and Obi-Wan's plans for finding Ferus Olin. As it turned out, he didn't have much of a plan at all.

"I was told to come out here by an old friend," the Jedi just smiled enigmantically and shrugged, by way of explanation. "I'm afraid that I'm completely 'winging' the specifics, to borrow a Commander Tano term."

Cody shared what little intelligence he'd had, a year before. It wasn't much and it was dreadfully outdated, but it was more than Obi-Wan or Saa had to offer. They formed a rough plan - mostly a simple agreement, really, to let Obi-Wan take the front, while Saa and Cody stayed in the background and kept watch on him from a distance. They agreed not to get involved directly, but Obi-Wan had a hunch that he was being followed.

"I first had the feeling on Tatooine and it hasn't changed."

So, Saa and Cody agreed to keep an eye out for anyone who might appear, bent on the Jedi's trail. Saa admitted that he might have an idea or two of who might be after Obi-Wan, but he wouldn't give a name, even after several minutes of concerted pestering.

And, they talked...

Saa shared some of his stories from the War; Cody and Obi-Wan followed suit, laughing more than once at memories that felt good to share. They stayed away from the harder memories - of men lost, lives sacrificed, and mistakes made. They tried to keep the mood light, since they all recognized the need to enjoy the brief respite as they traveled the hyperlanes toward their destination.

As Cody had said earlier, their paths wouldn't cross like this again. So, they enjoyed what time they had. There would be time enough to face the darkness in the galaxy around them - for now, they enjoyed each other's company and did what they had to do to prepare for docking in Bellassa.

Cody and Obi-Wan went over the Wanted Lists again and discussed some of the names that they found there. Obi-Wan smiled gently when they went over Commander Tano's and Captain Rex's names - he admitted quietly to Cody that he wasn't surprised to find their names like that, together.

"I was too caught up in other things, to really notice what was going on between them," he sat back, shrugged, and stared thoughtfully down at the datapad in his hands. "But...when I look back, it doesn't surprise me. They...cared a lot about each other, didn't they?"

"They always gave the rest of us some sense of hope," Cody nodded slowly. "I don't think anything went on between them during the War, but I think it's a safe bet that Rex saved her from Order 66. Weren't they out on a mission together when it went down?"

"I think they were," Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and tried to remember as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "On Saleucami, I think. Yes...I think that's right," he stroked his beard a little more and nodded absently to himself. "She'd just gotten Knighted - I remember it like it was yesterday," he paused, his smile a little sad. "The council sent her on a mission to the Outer Rim and we told her that she could pick her team, if she wanted. She requested Captain Rex and a few others, I can't recall who, exactly, off the top of my head."

"If she was with Rex when Order 66 went down, I can assure you, that he's the reason she's on the Lists. And if they're _both_ on the Lists, then that means they're together out there, somewhere," Cody turned and looked thoughtfully out the cockpit window.

"Another bit of hope," Obi-Wan said softly and Cody quietly agreed.

And a little bit more of the plan in the back of his mind came together, into shape and form. If Rex was out there, then he could be found. And maybe, if he could be found...something could be done. Cody wasn't sure what that something was, but he had faith that maybe if he could find Rex and Commander Tano, then _something_ good would just be waiting to happen.

* * *

"We're in range of Bellassa's orbit," Saa said over his shoulder as the cockpit door slid open.

Cody stood in the entrance and merely nodded when he caught the Mandalorian's eye. He was back in his borrowed armor and it felt good, if different. He carried Yln's helmet tucked underneath his arm and the cockpit was quiet as he stepped forward toward his co-pilot's chair.

"Have we been hailed by air control yet?" Cody asked quietly as he settled himself in the chair next to Saa.

"Not yet," Saa shook his head, looked out at the looming planet for a moment, and then glanced at Cody out of the corner of his eye. "Are you ready for this, _ad'ika_?" he added, gently.

Cody shrugged, feigning an indifference he certainly didn't feel.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

It was a lie, though, and both he and Saa knew the truth. Underneath his armor, underneath his skin, Cody felt uncertain and emotionally fragile. It was one thing to face Obi-Wan out of sheer random chance - it was another to willingly choose to go back to a place that held nothing but nightmares for him.

"You left Bellassa a changed man last time, wouldn't you say?" Saa's voice was thoughtful.

Cody nodded silently, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He didn't trust himself to speak at that moment, as he stared down at the multi-hued planet that hung bright against the black backdrop of space.

He sorted quietly through his feelings and realized that he wasn't anxious about being in the hire of a fugitive Jedi. He wasn't nervous about landing on a heavily-controlled Imperial planet. He wasn't even really all that concerned with the risks all three of them were taking, by returning to a place that had already torn itself inside out in search for the Jedi.

He was terrified, though, of facing his past head-on. The only thing that kept him from bolting, was the iron-clad will to set things right. He would fight by his general's side one last time. He would step foot on Bellassa again. And he would _do the right thing_, whatever that might be, when the time came.

Saa startled him from his thoughts, by reaching out and clasping a fatherly hand to his shoulder. The grip of the merc's fingers demanded an acknowledgment and Cody dragged his eyes away from the surreal sight of Bellassa looming ever-closer in the cockpit windows.

The look of compassion on Saa's face was humbling and for once, Cody didn't pull away from it. This seemed to please the Mando, who nodded twice before speaking his mind.

"The way I see it, _ad'ika_, is that you can leave this planet a second time a changed man," Saa patted his shoulder firmly. "A man who can hold his head up high."

Cody just nodded once, in silent acknowledgement of the encouragement that had been given him. Saa pulled away, leaned back in his chair, and the two of them waited silently for air control to hail them. And as Cody watched Bellassa come closer, he felt like a ghost, staring down at his own grave.

But, Saa's words gave him hope.

Perhaps here, in the place he thought of as a metaphorical grave, he could find that sense of self he'd lost so long ago. And when he left this time, to go back home to Anobis and to Tay, maybe he could leave the past behind him, buried and finally laid to rest.


	16. Waiting For the End5

_"And I don't even know what kind of things I said; / My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead. / Picking up those pieces - now where to begin? / The hardest part of ending, is starting again."_

**Linkin Park  
"Waiting For the End"**

* * *

Cody stood at the edge of the road and looked out onto a field of stones.

For several minutes, the clone stood perfectly still, his mind racing in confusion.

_There used to be town here. Where is everything?_

For a moment, he wondered if he'd gotten the coordinates wrong for their destination. He drew up the numbers in the view of his HUD and double checked. He even cross-referenced the coordinates against a map of the area from a year ago.

No, there was definitely supposed to be a town here. A town called Chan-Dar. A town that he had dreamed about in fire and blood for a whole haunting year.

Obi-Wan stood to his left, somber and silent, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his shabby robe and his beadred face clouded in the shadow of his hood. Saa stood at Cody's left, his Miralukan disguise immaculate; the setting sun glinted off his headband, throwing shades of umber and ochre across the dark-tinted glass. Neither one of them spoke, though Saa made an aborted movement with his arm, as if he meant to reach out and touch Cody's pauldron and then thought better of it.

"I don't understand," Cody whispered softly - he wasn't sure if either of them heard and he didn't bother to check if his out-going audio was switched on.

What he said didn't really matter at this point. Only what he _did_.

So, heart-pounding and palms sweating, Cody stepped off the sun-baked dirt and into a patch of knee-high weeds that lined the roadside ditch. The brittle plants crackled underneath the unforgiving duraplastic covering of his boots; winter had come to Bellassa and old snow had turned the world around them fragile and frozen.

Cody spotted movement out of the corner of his visor and he turned his head quickly to track it. A spike of alarm gave way to a sense of bemusement, as he watched an old man struggle along between a row of stones. He was several paces away from the clone and he glanced in the rear-sight screen on his HUD at Saa and Obi-Wan. The two still stood on the road, impassive and silent, but Cody could tell by the way Saa's hand had tucked underneath his seemingly unarmored arm and by the way Obi-Wan's stance had shifted slightly into his knees, that both were watching his back.

He kept an eye on the old man, but continued forward, the majority of his interest drawn by the first stone that stood in his way.

It was a rounded piece of polished granite. The speckles of white, black, and gray reflected in the dying light, throwing tones of amber and scarlet back into Cody's covered eyes. He reached out with a gloved hand and slowly ran his fingers across the smooth curve of stone. It stood up about waist-high, it's height shorter in distance than it's width. The stone was vaguely rectangluar in shape and curved gently at every corner.

Cody glanced at the other stones that dotted the quiet field around him - each one was absolutely identical to the one in front of him. He realized, with a mixture of reverence and shock, that this was a memorial.

Someone - or, more likely someone_s_ - had taken the time to remember Chan-Dar. And in place of what had been a small town - a rural suburb of the nearby capitol, Ussa - there was a field of granite memories.

The stones had to have been mined from some nearby quarry; Cody vaguely remembered mention of mines along the foothills on the other side of Ussa. The craftsmanship was achingly simple and exquisite - just carefully measured stones, meticulously shaped and polished. Cody's fingers lingered reverently on the sun-warmed granite as his gaze wandered a little lower, until they rested on names etched with the same painstaking perfection.

Names. The stones were markers, memories, _gravestones_.

Cody traced a few letters of a name, his fingers making clumsy work of the blocky font that was standard to Galactic Basic.

Cody read the first name on the stone and couldn't bear to read any of the others. He squeezed his eyes shut, thankful for the privacy of Yln's _buy'ce_ and leaned against the stone, the weight of his sins heavy against his shoulders.

He thought perhaps tears would come, but they didn't. His thoughts drifted back to that morning, when he'd asked Saa to kill him and he'd gone into Tay's hothouse to beat, and break, and shout his sorrow into the cold Anobian air. Cody realized that he'd cried all the tears he had, that day - all that was left was the hollow ache in his chest that reverberated against his senses each time his heart beat.

He hung his head and whispered silently the litany he'd learned from Saa -

_"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_."  
_  
"I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal."_

It was all he had to give. He had no names to add - there were too many stones, too many names, too many memories. And even if he searched across a thousand suns, he wasn't sure he'd ever find out the truth of her name, or of her son's name. They would remain nameless - but their memory would never die.

Not with him, anyway. Cody doubted that even if he found absolution in the silent memoriam, he'd never stop hearing her screams echoing deep inside his darker thoughts.

Her death was a sin he'd live with for the rest of his life. A part of him had hoped that by coming back to Bellassa, back to Chan-Dar, that he could put the past to rest. But, what was done could never be undone.

He realized that, now.

All that he could do, was learn to live with the sins of his past. He could only accept the forgiveness he'd already recieved - from Tay, from Saa, from Obi-Wan - and learn how to forgive himself.

There was no absolution. Not in this snow-covered, granite-grim memory of a town that would never exist again.

He lifted his head slowly and looked out toward the sun-stained sky. A copse of needle-leafed trees reached up toward the sky, the only spot of green in a world painted shades of darkening monotone. The wind was starting to pick up as twilight approached and a little flurry of loose snow danced across the tops of his boots.

Absolution had to come from within.

"You won't die in vain," Cody spoke softly, his words carried away by the wind that whistled briskly against his helmet.

His promise, gently given, was absolution.

He could bring her back to life. He couldn't go back in time and stop Bellassa. He couldn't change Order 66. He couldn't wipe the blood that he imagined still stained his hands, his gloves, his clothes, his armor. He couldn't erase the scars on his thighs, or on his soul.

But, he could make sure none of it ever happened again.

_Not on my watch._

He curled his fist on top of the granite cairn and lingered for just one second more. His eyes drifted across the dotted field, across all the stones, across all the names that were marked in shadow and deepening sun.

He would never again stand by while evil triumphed. He'd find Ferus Olin this time - but not to kill him. He'd never stain his honor again by carrying out Imperial orders. He'd find Olin and give some bit of hope back to the galaxy. He'd watch over Obi-Wan for as long as he could, to ensure that evil didn't find him. He'd go back to Anobis and give what he had left of himself - a broken man and half a heart - to Tay. And then he'd take Saa and they'd find his brothers - Rex, Fives, Boil - and he'd see if they would stand with him.

Cody remembered Obi-Wan's words:

_"We need compassion in this galaxy, if we're to pull through these dark times. We need attachment, love, mercy, and - dare I say it - passion."_

_No,_ Cody realized, as he watched the sun slip behind the trees and the shadows lengthen between the stones. _We need the sum of all those parts. We need _rebellion.

He stepped away from the headstone and turned his head to catch the old man standing just a few arms' lengths away, watching him with wary, war-torn eyes.

His eyes, pale with age and cataracts, lingered fearfully on the ex-commander's helmet. Cody knew only toowell why - the helmets of the Republic's Phase I had been modeled after Jango Fett's _buy'ce_. After Mandalorian _buy'cese _- after helmets like Yln's. The T-shaped visor was practically identical and it mirrored the man's fear back into his eyes.

Cody lifted a hand, his palm flat and outward in a galactic sign of peace, but the movement seemed to spark something inside of the old man. Age clearly made him bold, as he took his simple wooden walking stick and slapped Cody on the back of his legs.

He just looked down, briefly, and then back at the old man, nonplussed. He didn't feel a thing, since his leg was firmly encased in durapast plates and he cocked an eyebrow in mixed amusement.

The old man whacked him again, his chin quivering but held high.

"What are you doing here?" his ancient voice cracked in the cold; his breath puffed into steam and evaporated as quickly as his words.

"I'm here to -" Cody started, but the cane reached out and caught him briskly across the thigh.

The clone flinched, his muscles tensing for a hard-wired reaction. But, he controlled himself and merely reached out his arm to block the cane as it descended viciously against his extended forearm.

"Who are you?" anger followed close behind the fearless - if ill-advised - blows.

The next blow came higher, striking Cody right across the top of his helmet. At that exact moment, Cody realized that the old man couldn't hear a word he was saying, since his out-put audio was turned off. He blinked quickly and voiced his indignation.

"Hey!" he snapped and reached up, grabbing the cane firmly in his grasp.

He pulled once, giving the cane an authoritative tug; the old man's grip on the other end was surprisingly rebellious and Cody paused. He didn't want to topple the older man over or cause him serious injury, so the two stayed locked in a stand-still, each holding tightly to opposite ends of the cane.

"I'm Mando'ad," Cody answered, quietly.

He glanced in the HUD's rear-sight just in time to catch a rather enigmatic smile flash briefly across Saa's lips. The older Mando gave one slight nod, as if he could sense that Cody was looking at him; something in the gesture bolstered Cody's confidence. He knew Saa well enough by now, to know the nod was a sign of silent approval.

Both Obi-Wan and Saa remained on the edge of the road. The armored clone could tell by the slight tension in their body language that they were ready to come help him diffuse the situation if necessary, but otherwise, they would stay where they were until he called them over.

He was being given command of the situation. It was a feeling Cody knew well, but one that he had almost forgotten underneath the misery of his past.

"I mean you no harm," he turned his attention back toward the front of his HUD, toward the old man who was beginning to shiver pathetically in the twilight wind.

As if to show that he meant it, Cody let go of his end of the cane. Wary, the old man lowered it and leaned heavily against it once again, but his eyes never strayed from Cody's helmet. For a long moment, the two considered each other and the sun slipped further below the distant horizon.

"I wouldn't linger here, if I were you," the older Bellassan's pale eyes suddenly shifted as he threw a furtive, almost fearful glance around them.

His words were underlined by a particularly theatric shiver.

"What do you mean?" Cody frowned, his expression safe behind the anonymity of his helmet.

"The ghosts," the old man suddenly pulled the frayed edges of his patched cloak tighter around his narrow shoulders as he hunched his flimsi-thin frame against the wind.

His eyes roved nervously about at the stones and his voice dropped to barely a whisper. It was only with concerted effort, that he looked back up at Cody, fear etched deeply into his wrinkled face.

"Night's coming. So are the ghosts."

"What happened here?" Cody knew the awful truth, but he wanted to hear it.

He _needed_ to hear it.

"Evil," his companion whispered, shivering, his eyes furtive.

"There was a town here. What happened to it?" Cody persisted, undaunted by talk of ghosts and evil.

He knew evil - he'd done it's bidding. And ghosts didn't scare him - he would never be rid of them, but their haunting had slowly lost its hold on him.

"The soldiers in white armor came," the old man shut his eyes, as if remembering only too well a past that was drenched in blood. "They took our people hostage. Killed our sons. Broke our women."

Cody's past echoed in his raw-voiced words. He squeezed his eyes shut, too, the memories of Chan-Dar still fresh. Still painful.

"They were looking for someone. They were here for many days."

Cody had deserted the night after he'd watched that woman beaten, raped, and killed. He hadn't stuck around to find out what happened to Chan-Dar. He'd made his way to the next closest city - Amo - ahead of the Imperial army and had caught a freighter out. Since he'd caught what was most readily available, he'd gone to Dantooine first, where he'd sold his armor. From there, he'd made his way to Anobis and he'd never once checked back on Bellassa. He'd never followed up on the conclusions of Order 37.

He'd never been strong enough.

Until now.

"They didn't find who they were looking for. So, they locked the villagers who were left in the town hall. And burned it. They burned the whole village. And everyone in it."

Cody's soul went as cold as the winter air around them. He knew who had given that order - when he left, he deserted his men from the Stormtrooper Corps, but they'd been mixed with two teams from the 501st, lead by Commander Appo.

Cody absently noticed that he had now healed enough to feel anger. He clenched his fists at his side and clenched his teeth.

_Appo._

The men hadn't talked about who had lead them at the Jedi Temple massacre. But, they'd talked about Appo. And Appo had bragged about leading the 501st against their unsuspecting Jedi commanders, younglings, padawans, and elders. Cody had only worked with Appo once or twice - a few times during the War, even. But, each encounter had soured him further on the clone commander. During the War, he'd been a decent enough officer, but Order 66 had turned him cruel and sadistic.

He'd taken quite a lot of pride in the massacre he lead. Every account of it had turned Cody's stomach in horror. And what had disgusted him the most then, was what disgusted him the most, now.

Appo had enjoyed pain, misery, dominance, _evil_. He thought little of slaughtering innocents. Cody didn't need to look into the past, to know that Appo had to have been the one to order the slaughter of a whole village. Or, its destruction.

"I'll kill him."

He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. The old man lifted his head sharply, his expression a mixture of surprise and fear.

"You'll what?" his voice cracked again, the cold becoming almost too much for his voice to bear.

Cody was silent for a long time. The sun had almost all but set and twilight whispered in across the field, painting the stones in cool shades of purplish blue and dusky black.

"I knew the two commanders who destroyed Chan-Dar," Cody finally spoke, his voice deep, husky, and low with barely surpressed emotion.

He was fury. He was horror. He was vengeance. He was justice.

His hands clenched and unclenched, unconscious, as he turned his head slightly to meet the old man's gaze from behind his helmet's visor.

"One is dead. I'll kill the other."

The old man just stared back at him, his face a study in blank amazement. Finally, he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. His old, arthritic hands reached up to pull the hood of his cloak up over his face, to shield the back of his neck from the biting cold.

"It won't change the past, young man."

Cody didn't answer at first. He just looked back over the field and watched as the wind whipped up snow in little eddies. In the encroaching darkness, he could almost imagine that each little whirlwind was a restless spirit, stirred up by the memories of the past.

"Don't fear the ghosts in this place," he finally dipped his head toward his old companion and raised his hand in a respectful two-fingered salute.

Cody turned to leave, but before he did, he paused and looked over his shoulder one last time. The old man hadn't moved; he was still watching Cody with eyes that had seen far too much.

"Tell the story of Chan-Dar to anyone who passes through," he spoke quietly, reverently, the force of all his absolution behind every parting word.

Cody glanced up at Saa and Obi-Wan, then started walking forward toward them, leaving the stones and the old man behind.

The wind took his last words and amplified them, so that they echoed against the graves like the voice of those who'd died -

"And don't fear her ghosts. They may help set this galaxy free."

He stopped once he reached Obi-Wan and Saa. For a moment, he deliberated, but then he slowly reached up and pulled off his helmet.

The old man's face was cast in shadow, but his eyes widened beneath the brim of his hood and his breath hitched in an audible gasp, when Cody turned around to face him, eye to eye. The wind stung his naked cheeks and tried to rake through his short-cropped hair. For a long moment, the last survivor of Chan-Dar gazed in sheer amazement at the commander who had helped to bring it down.

Cody bowed, just once, deeply at the waist. And before he put his helmet back on and turned to walk back toward Ussa with his silent companions, the clone left his promise among the stones and their ghosts.

"You have this soldier's word. I won't forget Chan-Dar."

* * *

_"The hardest part of ending, is starting again."_

Cody had heard those words once, somewhere - he didn't know who'd said them, or in what context. But, they echoed about in his head, in his heart. And in the next three months, he learned the exquisite truth of those words.

It was hard, facing the ghosts of his past amid the memorial of Chan-Dar. It was even harder to accept that he'd never put those ghosts to rest - he could only learn to live them with them and to turn their memory into positive actions toward the future. It was hard not to be crippled by the words of that old man or by the memory of those silent stones. It was hard to realize that in some ways, he'd left Chan-Dar to a darker destiny by deserting when he had, than if he had stayed and offered opposition to Appo's orders as the senior commander in charge.

Chan-Dar wouldn't have burned if he hadn't fled from the memory of his weakness - or, at least, that's what Cody told himself.

But, while Chan-Dar wouldn't have burned in a bloody massacre, staying would have meant that he would have become a very different man. He wouldn't have run to Anobis. He wouldn't have gotten addicted to stims and whiskey. He wouldn't have met Tay. He wouldn't have found his winding road to redemption.

Good came hand-in-hand with the bad. He'd always known that, at some intellectual level. But, the man he'd been in the War was a far less perceptive man that he was now. In many ways, Cody had learned the truth of things, through hard experience and hard-won understanding.

It was one thing to know something. It was something else entirely, to learn the reality of its application on one's life.

For three months, Cody and Saa kept an eye on Obi-Wan from afar. During that time, Cody learned the ways and wisdom of his blood - every day his knowledge of Mando'a increased, his understanding of the Mandalorian culture deepened, and his desire to follow the _Resol'nare_ strengthened.

As the days slipped by into weeks, Cody slowly accepted the simple grace offered by _cin vhetin_. He wore the armor of a Mandalorian now. The past was what it was, but it no longer had to hold its power over him.

He could acknowledge the ghosts that would walk by his side for the rest of his life. But he no longer had to let them rule him.

He grew harder during those days - stronger, leaner, faster, wiser. His body would never go back to what it was in the height of his abnormal youth, during his glory days as "Commander Cody". Age was slowly reconfiguring his shape and the lean, almost sinewy muscle of before was slowly replaced by a slightly broader bulk. He put on muscle in slightly different places now, as the emphasis in his fighting styles changed; his chest seemed a bit broader now, his arms and legs a little thicker.

Saa told him that his build started to favor that of an ARC trooper - like Del. Cody had pondered that for a bit - he'd heard it said that the ARCs and some of the other special forces had been left less tampered and their genetic makeup was closer to that of Jango Fett's, than that of regular troopers. Cody had been selected and trained as an ARC, but he'd come from the trooper batches. Their genes had been slightly modified to favor a slighter, quicker frame. But, it seemed even genetic dispositions could be reshaped by environment.

It drove home the lesson that they - each and every clone - was more than the sum of their parts. More than their genetics. More than their conditioning. In the broader galaxy of experience and nurture, even the coding of their DNA could be challenged and changed.

They weren't machines, they weren't chained to some predetermined path to the exclusion of any other. They were capable of choices, decisions and growth.

They were capable of _changing_.

_He_ was capable of changing, of choosing the man _he_ wanted to be. He didn't have to be the clone he was told to be; he was capable of his own free will, his own choices.

He was capable of taking Chan-Dar and turning her memory into a rallying cry. Those screams no longer had to haunt they - they could motivate him. They could fuel him, focus him, shape him.

He no longer had to hang his head in shame for the sins of his past, because he could choose to use their memory for a better future.

And so, for three months, Cody slowly let go of what had held him down for so long. He let go of his grief, his confusion, his sorrow, his depression, his fear. And in their places, he found courage, strength, determination, clarity, and absolution.

He often thought of Tay while Saa and him ran interference between Obi-Wan and the nameless Mandalorian bounty hunter who had shown up to track him. In the quiet of the night, in the peaceful moments between running, fighting, and protecting, Cody started to allow himself thoughts of where he hoped to go with her. Of the things he wanted to show her.

He contacted her from time to time, since she was reluctant to do so, not knowing when he'd "be busy" and not wanting to be a distraction. They would talk in the privacy of Yln's _buy'ce _and Saa would pretend he didn't know what was going on. Cody was thankful for the feigned disinterest.

And the more they talked to each other, the more Cody hoped for something more.

They didn't get to say much to each other - not usually. Watching over a Jedi - and in time, _two_ Jedi - was a tall order during the best of times. But, sometimes he'd be able to catch a longer conversation with her - fifteen minutes here. A half-hour there. Just long enough to share shy admissions of longing. Just long enough to let her know he cared.

Saa re-injured his wounded leg during a firefight with the bounty hunter one early spring day and Cody knew their time was up. They were able to make contact with Obi-Wan, just long enough for Saa to admit through gritted teeth that he was, in fact, "too old for this".

Their farewell was short, but poignant. No words were said at first - young Olin had stared at the two men, at the quiet Mandalorian in armor so very similiar to the very bounty hunter who pursued them, at the Miralukan who forgot to act like a Miralukan in the pain of his injury.

Cody had only saluted the young Jedi and left him with a parting admonission - one he knew that Olin would remember.

"Don't forget what's happened here."

Olin's eyes had widened and Cody knew that the young man had understood perfectly what was being asked.

_"Don't forget Chan-Dar. Don't forget Order 37. Don't forget Bellassa."_

Obi-Wan and Cody hadn't said a word. The bearded general merely took Cody's forearm and gripped it tight; the former commander did the same and they silently accepted that this was the last that they would ever see each other.

Cody left them, then, but his head was held high, his shoulders straight, his back strong. He hadn't gotten far, though, with the limping Saa, before Obi-Wan called out. The clone stopped and half-turned; General and Commander looked at each other one last time.

"Don't give up hope," Obi-Wan just waved his hand and Cody felt that familiar nudge against his mind.

He smiled.

"I won't. There's too much out there, sir."

And those were the last words spoken between General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody.

When Cody finally walked away, he felt complete for the first time in his life.

The last memory of his general wouldn't be of treachery or death.

Those memories had been replaced by hope. And Cody would never again give that up.

* * *

Saa was right - Cody left Bellassa a second time, a changed man. And when they landed back on Tay's fallowed field, Cody put her little house in his sights and stalked toward it like a man on a mission.

For a moment, though, Cody lingered, waiting on Saa, but the older merc waved him on.

"Get on with it," he grimaced from the pain in his leg, but that was quickly replaced by a knowing chuckle.

He limped along after Cody, but took his time, his injured leg wrapped and braced securely. The younger clone hoped that maybe there was something Tay could do for Saa and for a moment, he felt bad about leaving his elder behind. But, then he caught sight of a short, curvy figure in the garden behind the house and Cody's focus narrowed down to one thing - _her_.

He'd given up his kama and his pauldron about his second month on Bellassa; he no longer needed either to force a military posture or a swagger. Chest out, back straight, Cody covered the distance between him and the garden in a long-legged, single-minded gait. As he drew closer, he slowed down, his hips swaying in a cocky swagger that had become almost second-nature to him.

Tay was hands-deep in dirt, when he pushed open the little garden gate. She lifted her face toward him, surprise and delight bright across her every feature. She stood up and opened her mouth to greet him, but Cody didn't give her a chance to make a sound.

He'd been thinking about this for three months, planning on it, hoping for it.

Cody just reached for her and set the record straight.

He pulled her in his arms, up against his armor and his body. And he did what he should have done three months before.

He took her chin in hand and tilted her face up toward him. Tay managed to whisper one word before he claimed her lips in a firm, demanding kiss.

It was the one word he'd hoped to hear above all others.

"Cody..."

* * *

**+ PART ONE: REDEMPTION +**

**+ FIN +  
**


End file.
